SCREAM 5: REALITY TV
by mugatu
Summary: In the Wake of the Reboot Murders, Woodsboro struggles to pick up the pieces.  A new coalition is formed to rid Woodsboro of all horror movies - and Sidney becomes their target.  Meanwhile a new Ghostface rises, slicing his way on to reality t.v.
1. Chapter 1: The Opening Kill: Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Scream series. This is merely a fanfiction.

…

_ Riiiing!_

It begins with the sound of a telephone ringing; the familiar harbinger of impending doom. Sixteen year old Jamie Lewis walks into her living room. She checks out the Caller-ID. It's a RESTRICTED number.

"Yea, right."

She turns away, just letting it ring. She fixes herself a snack in her kitchen when a voice comes on the answering machine.

_"Jamie, I know you're home. Come on, pick up!"_

Rolling her eyes, Jamie picks up the phone, placing it to her ear. "Hey Hannah."

_"Why didn't you pick up the phone earlier?"_

"I'm not going to pick up a RESTRICTED number. Ever since you made me watch those awful STAB movies last month, I haven't been answering any strange numbers!"

_"Yea well, I lost my cell phone the other day, so I'm calling you from my brother's cell. Listen, I'm going to be there in twenty minutes. You better be dressed!"_

"Okay, okay, I just have to shower up and get my costume on. I still can't believe you talked me into this!"

_"Come on, it'll be fun! It's not too often Woodsboro has an annual Halloween carnival."_

"You know how I hate scary stuff!"

_"Yea, but Chuck knows one of the guys operating the carnival … he owes Chuck's dad a favor. The guy said we could stay after hours, once the carnival closes. Have all the rides to ourselves!"_

"I still don't know about this …"

_"And Todd will be there."_

"Todd?"

_"Yeah. The guy you practically drool over in World Lit. class. Word on the street is, he's got a little thing for you."_

Jamie's face turns red. "Who told you that?"

_"Chuck. He's basically best friends with Todd. Think about it, Jamie. Tonight could be the very night you and Todd start going out! Now enough chitchat! Go upstairs, shower and put that sexy costume on!"_

CLICK!

Hannah hangs up, and Jamie looks down into the kitchen floor as the sound of treading paws echoes throughout the room. She kneels down. "Hey there, Rex." Her Pomeranian wags his tail, and tags along after her heels as she exits the kitchen.

…

The steam from the shower fills the whole room. Jamie is preparing to undress, when her cell phone rings in the other room. She rolls her eyes, and turns the shower off.

She enters her room and looks at the CALLER-ID on her cell phone. HANNAH. Hmm, now that's odd. Hannah said she lost her cell phone. Maybe she found it. Jamie shrugs and answers.

"Hello."

_"Hello Jamie."_

Jamie's eyes widen. That voice. She recognizes it from the iconic STAB movies. "Who is this?"

_"Oh Jamie, don't you know the rules? You don't ask questions like 'who is this' or 'who's there'! That's just asking for a gutting!"_

"Look Hannah, I know it's you, and it's not funny! Now just stop it!"

_"Oh, I would stop it – if I were Hannah. But I'm not. If you only knew who I really was, you'd be running out of your house to your car right now! But you won't. Because if you acted intelligently, you would escape and the movie would be over!"_

"What are you talking about? Listen, I'm hanging up!"

_"Go ahead. But if you do, I can guarantee that you'll be skewered like a pig within five seconds! They'll be picking your liver and intestines out of every crevice!"_

Jamie is visibly shaking. "Okay Hannah, you've had your fun. I don't know how you downloaded that voice app. on your phone, but cut it out. You're really freaking me out!"

_"Ah, I can hear the cracking of your voice. Your muscles are tightening, you're sweating. Your porcelain skin has goose bumps. Yeah. I'll be stripping your skin straight off your bones … while you're still alive…"_

"You're sick, Hannah! Now I don't even feel like going to the carnival anymore!"

She hangs up the cell phone, storming out of her bedroom.

_Riiing!_

The cell phone's ring tone blazes again. Swearing, Jamie picks it up. "Look Hannah -."

_"NO, YOU LOOK YOU LITTLE TWAT! HANG UP ON ME AGAIN, AND I'LL CARVE YOU UP LIKE A JACK-O-LANTERN!"_

Jamie pauses … "Hannah …?" She's suddenly unsure of whether this is really her friend.

_"Listen to me very carefully, Jamie. We're going to play a little game."_

Jamie slowly enters her brother's room, gripping his baseball bat. "What kind of game? Ask me trivia questions like in the STAB movies?"

_"No … not quite. More of a game of … hide and seek …"_

"What … I hide and you find me?"

_"No. You have to find me."_

"What if I refuse?"

_"Have you seen Rex in the past five minutes?"_

Jamie nearly drops her phone. She begins calling out her dog's name. "Rex! REX! Come here, boy!" No answer. "Where is my dog?"

_"Safe and sound … for now. I'm lightly petting him with my hands … pray that I don't decide to pet him with my knife!"_

"Don't hurt him!"

_"Then come find me."_

"Give me a hint!"

_"I'm outside … but don't hang up. I need you to stay on the line. And if you call the cops – well, if you saw _Halloween_, you'd know what Michael Myers did to that German Shepard. Now … go to the back porch. And drop the baseball bat!"_

The baseball bat drops to the ground with a THUD. Jamie, her face streaming with tears, and shaking violently, runs downstairs and outside to the back porch. She turns on the light, illuminating parts of her enormous backyard. The rest remain bathed in darkness, the trees looking weird and distorted.

_"Can you see me?"_

"No. Please, just give me a hint!"

_"Fine … Wood."_

"Wood?" She looked around. "Trees? Are you hiding in a tree?"

_"Why don't you walk into the backyard and find out?"_

She prepared to take a step.

_"Oh, and turn out the porch light."_

"No … please!"

_"Do it! We're playing by my rules. Remember, Rex is counting on you!"_

Shivering, Jamie turns out the light, shrouding the entire backyard in darkness. She holds the phone – trembling - to her ears, entering the blackness. She walks slowly, every small noise making her jump.

She looks up around the gnarled trees, expecting something to jump out at her.

Then her eyes see it. The old, wooden tool shed. She gulps, as she silently approaches it. She could see the door is slightly ajar. The tension builds up. She is nearly hysterical. The fear of what Rex might look like if this man kept his promise … she pushes that thought out of her mind.

Her white hand reaches out. Her fingers trace the doorknob. She says a silent prayer, and then jerks the door wide open, bracing herself for a killer to jump out at her.

Nothing.

Silence.

She takes a cautious step inside, looking around. Nothing but a lawnmower, a chainsaw, garden shears. She backs outside and puts the phone to her ear.

"I still can't find …" Her voice trails off as she realizes that the man hung up.

The noise of crickets is perpetual. _Chirp. Chirp._

She backs away from the tool shed -.

BAM!

Something jumps at her from the side. She screams and falls over to see…

Ghostface towering over. There is a flash of silver as he produces a hunting knife.

Jamie screams and scrabbles to her feet. She runs through the darkness of her backyard, heading for her porch.

Ghostface is blazing her trail, only feet away from her. She bounds up the steps, Ghostface gaining ground.

She slips on a puddle, falling on her side. She reaches up and grasps the handle to the door.

Ghostface is ascending the steps.

Almost to the top.

Within reach.

Jamie opens the door at the last second, and scrabbles inside. She spares a glance over her shoulder to see …

Nothing.

He is gone.

She prepares to dial 9-11, when suddenly Ghostface pops around a corner, grabbing her. He shoves her onto a couch, then straddles her, pinning her in place.

Then a strange thing occurs.

Ghostface begins laughing.

Not menacingly. In fact, laughing as though the entire thing is quite humorous. Jamie recognizes that laugh.

"Hannah?"

Ghostface suddenly slides off her body and withdraws the mask to reveal – Hannah, who is nearly doubled over in laughter.

"You should have seen your face! It was priceless! Oh, this is _so_ going on YouTube!"

Jamie gets up and shoves Hannah into a couch. "You bitch!"

"Hey chill out, it was only a prank!"

"It was not! It was sick, just plain fucked up! And what if I had injured you in self-defense? Or… or worse?"

"Relax, nothing went wrong!"

Jamie is struggling to control her rage. "Where's Rex?"

Hannah smiles and goes over to a closet. "I must've scared the poor pooch half to death." She opens the closet door to reveal Rex, munching on a shoe. Hannah bends over and picks the Pomeranian up. "But you forgive me, don't you Rex?"

Rex growled viciously at her.

"Okay, maybe not."

"You deserve it."

"Come on, don't be such a baby. It was only a joke!" Hannah held up the Ghostface mask and spun around in her black robe. "You like my costume? Not too many people wear Ghostface costumes anymore. Not since … you know..."

"Yea, yea, yea."

Hannah stood up, adjusting the robe. "Well put your costume on!"

"I'm not going. That prank was totally not cool! I'm too jumpy and furious right now!"

"Okay, I guess Todd will just have to find someone else to go through the Hall of Mirrors with. The dark, romantic Hall of Mirrors. Where couples have been known to have long, private make-out sessions."

Jamie eyes her friend, the words bouncing around her mind. "Alright, point taken." She waved Hannah's fake knife in her friend's face. "But this doesn't mean I forgive you. I'll be right back down."

…

Jamie and Hannah sit in Hannah's Beetle, on the dark roads of Woodsboro. Hannah is still sporting her Ghostface costume, while Jamie is dressed as Alice in Wonderland. Right now, Jamie is feeling a little insecure. "Now you're sure Chuck said Todd was in to me?"

"Relax girl. That's what Chuck told me."

"What were Chuck's exact words?"

"Uh … Todd's into her."

"What else?"

"He thinks you're hot. And, he's been meaning to ask you out but hasn't had the courage."

Jamie leans back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face.

_Riiing. Riiing._

It's Hannah's cell phone. She looks down at the CALLER-ID to see a RESTRICED number.

"Don't answer it," Jamie murmured.

"Oh, come on. It's probably just a telemarketer – or maybe I finally won something from Publishers Clearinghouse!"

"You shouldn't talk and drive!"

"Whatever. Don't be such a goody-goody." She puts the phone to her ear. "Hellooo?" She says in a singsong voice.

_"Hello, Hannah." _Ghostface's voice.

"Oh, let me guess, Ghostface right?" She winks at Jamie. "Whatever, Chuck. Listen, Jamie totally fell for our prank – I told you she would."

Jamie angrily punched Hannah in the shoulder.

"Ow! But she's pretty mad about it. Maybe Todd can make her feel better, if you catch my drift."

_"Sure … But I just want to ask you a question real quick."_

"Alright, shoot."

_"What was the name of the killer in the 1979 film _When a Stranger Calls_?"_

She goes along with it. "Oh, asking horror trivia, huh Mr. Ghostface, a.k.a. Chuck." She rolls her eyes. "That's an easy one … one of my favorites. The killer is named Curt Duncan."

_"Very good, Hannah."_

"Easy as pie, Chuck."

_"Okay. Just one more question. Where did the opening scene of the 2006 remake take place?"_

"A carnival."

_"Precisely. See you there …"_

"See you there, Chuck. Be there in five min-." She pauses, looking at Jamie. "He hung up on me." She shrugged. "Oh well."


	2. Chapter 2: The Opening Kill: Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the Scream series. This is merely a fanfiction.

…

The carnival is in full swing, and everyone is in costume. It is like one giant Halloween party. Jack-o-lanterns dot the landscape.

Hannah leads Jamie through the carnival, looking at the time on her cell phone. "Where are they?"

Jamie points ahead. "Is that them?"

Chuck (dressed as Popeye the Sailor Man) and Todd (dressed as Superman) appear. Chuck is smirking, while Todd waves nervously.

Hannah is impatient. "There you are! We've been waiting for fifteen minutes!"

Chuck waves his hands. "Well Mr. Tiny Bladder over here had to tinkle!"

Todd shakes his head. "Large soda from Nuke Burger."

"And like ten refills," Chuck adds.

Hannah clears her throat. "Todd, you know Jamie from World Lit." She pushes Jamie towards him and she nearly stumbles. Todd reaches out to grab her, prevent her from tripping. They look at each other and blush. Todd realizes he's holding her too long and quickly lets go.

"Sorry."

Chuck shakes his head and leans towards Hannah. "Are you sure about this? They're so awkward together."

She bops him across the head. "Shut up."

…

"Alright, I'm only doing this because your dad owes me a favor. But don't screw it up! My ass is on the line here!"

It is after eleven. The carnival is closed and the four teenagers are being lectured by an older man with balding patches on his head.

Hannah whispers in Jamie's ear. _"This guy's creepy."_

Chuck pats the older man on the back. "Don't worry about it, Bill. We'll be extra careful. You'll still have your job in the morning."

"I better! Or you all will be shish kabob!"

Bill leads them through the now empty carnival.

"Don't worry about old Bill," Chuck says. "He's just crazy after the … _abduction_."

Jamie raises an eyebrow. "Abduction?"

Bill grunts as he leads the teenagers. "Space aliens. Took me while I was driving over that old bridge down the road. Probed me. I got the burn marks on my butt if you want to see."

Hannah raised a hand. "We'll pass."

Jamie seemed genuinely interested. "Alien abductions?"

"It happens occasionally," Bill grunts. "Woodsboro's an interesting place … far more than anyone realizes. It has a history. A lot of sick stuff happened when it was first built … a lot of haunted locations and other oddities … and that's not even counting the Woodsboro Murders."

He stopped as he leads them to a trailer. "Alright. I'll be in this trailer watching you the whole night. Each ride can be controlled remotely from inside, so whenever you want to go on a ride, I'll start it from here. Just don't screw anything up for me!"

"Like I said – no worries Bill." Chuck is beaming with excitement.

Bill grunts again as he enters the trailer. "I need a beer…"

Chuck turns to his friends. "Okay, so what ride do we want to go on first?"

Hannah notices that Todd and Jamie are trying to look at each other without the other noticing. Hannah takes Chuck aside.

"Okay, those two definitely like each other, but they're both too shy to do anything about it."

"Well what should we do?"

"We need to give them a gentle … push." She clears her throat. "Hey Todd! Jamie's been dying to see the House of Mirrors. Why don't you show her around?"

Todd smiles weakly, blushing – but excitement flashing in his eyes. "Sure thing. If you don't have a problem with it, Jamie."

"Me? No way."

"Okay, it's a date," Hannah says, putting her emphasis on the word "date." "Have fun you two."

"Well what do you want to do," asks Chuck.

"Let's go on the Ferris Wheel."

"Aaw, I hate the Ferris Wheel."

"Deal with it – like I dealt going to your little sisters' recital." She winks at Jamie and Todd. "Have fun you two."

…

"I told you the Ferris Wheel was the other way!"

Hannah and Chuck are arguing. "Sorry," protests Chuck. "You know how I am with directions."

"But the Ferris Wheel is big! How do you not see it?"

"You didn't see it either!"

"Okay, let's not point fingers … let's just get on the ride."

The two enter the Ferris Wheel, sitting in one of the gondolas. The ride automatically begins. Hannah seems excited. "Good going, Bill! Remind me to thank that guy later."

The Ferris Wheel takes them on two full circuits. Hannah snuggles up in Chuck's arms as they go higher, higher, higher … and stop. The Ferris Wheel grinds to a halt, with their gondola stopping near the top. One gondola is above theirs.

"What the -?" Chuck is looking around frantically.

"Did Bill fall asleep," Hannah asks. "Seriously, that guy looks ancient."

"I don't know. I don't think the ride is supposed to stop like this."

_Riing! Riing!_

Grumbling, Hannah takes out her cell phone. RESTRICTED.

"Answer it," Chuck says. "It might be Bill!"

"How would Bill know my number?"

"I kind of gave him all of our numbers – just in case…"

"You gave that creepy guy my number? He could be a psycho!"

"Just answer the stupid phone! Bill could trying to reach us right now!"

Hannah gives Chuck the evil eye before answering the phone. "Hello?"

_"Hello Hannah. It's me again."_

Time seems to slow around Hannah. The person who called earlier … it isn't Chuck.

"Who is this?"

_"Oh, no one important. Just your friendly neighborhood killer!"_

"Look, I'm hanging up!"

_"Do it. Hang up on me, and I'll hang Jamie and Todd up by their entrails!"_

"Ha ha, _real_ funny." Hannah's voice drips with sarcasm. "Okay, you've had your fun, but the joke's over. I'm kind of in a bind here and -."

THUD!

Something heavy drops from the gondola above, landing right in Chuck and Hannah's laps. They look at the object.

Bill.

Dead and gutted.

Hannah screams and she instinctively pushes Bill's hollowed out corpse off the gondola to the ground below. It makes a splat on contact.

_"Still think I'm joking?"_

Chuck's face is pasty white and Hannah is beginning to hyperventilate. "I'm calling the cops!"

_"And do you really think you'll survive long enough for them to get here? Go ahead, call the cops. But let me lay out a few options. You can call the cops, and have a one hundred percent chance of dying. Or, you can play along with me, where your chances are slighter higher. But not much."_

"What do you want with us?"

_"Oh Hannah, nothing much. I just want to kill you."_

Hannah is bursting into tears.

_"But don't worry … I'm not after you guys – yet. I've got my eye on Jamie and Todd for now. You know, they really would make a nice couple – if they survive the ordeal."_

"Don't hurt them!"

_"That depends on you. We're going to play a little game. Answer a question correct – they live. Answer it wrong, they die!"_

Hannah looks over at Chuck, who is nodding for her to go along with it. He has his own cell phone out, preparing to dial 9-1-1.

_"And tell Chuck to throw his cell phone off the Ferris Wheel right now – or I'll start SLICING!"_

Hannah nods at Chuck, who sighs and tosses his I-phone over the edge.

Hannah gulps, her face bathed in sweat. "What's the question?"

_"Who was the hunchback assistant to Frankenstein in the 1931 version?"_

Relief spreads across Hannah's face. "Igor! It's Igor!"

_"Sorry, wrong answer."_

"Fuck you! It's Igor! Everyone knows _Igor_ is Dr. Frankenstein's assistant!"

_"Not in the 1931 version! In the original 1931 film, the hunchback assistant was named Fritz! Igor didn't come around until the sequels. And Frankenstein wasn't a doctor in the movie either – he was only a student."_

"But that's not fair! That was a trick question!"

_"No, it was a fairly straightforward question. See, it doesn't hurt to know useless trivia. It can sometimes mean the difference between life and death!"_

"Give me another chance! Just give me another one!"

_"Okay, I'll give you another chance."_

Hannah is relieved. "So you're not going to kill them?"

_"Silly Hannah. I said I would give _you_ another chance. I never said I would give _them_ one."_

"No wait!"

CLICK!

The phone is hung up, leaving the two of them suspended on the Ferris Wheel, unable to come to the aide of their friends.

…

Jamie and Todd walk silently through the Hall of Mirrors. Todd tries making some small talk.

"What kind of music do you listen to?"

"I like Taylor Swift. Country. Classic rock."

Todd's eyebrow rises. "I play a little guitar. I'm actually in a band. We booked an appearance in a small club next month. You should check it out."

Jamie smiles. "I think I might."

They both blush. Jamie observes herself in one of the mirrors, which distorts her reflection. She plays around with it, and Todd joins her. They both share a laugh and continue walking.

"So where did you grow up?"

"I actually grew up in a small town in Utah. There was a Navajo preserve there. My family was friendly with them, and they would often tell us stories and legends."

"What kind of legends?"

"Well, there was the _skinwalker_."

Todd seems interested. "The skinwalker?"

"According to the legend, the skinwalker would wear the skin of an animal. Cover his face with a mask. Then … he would become like the animal. The same brutal savagery of an animal… and they would kill."

"Kill?"

"Like a predator. They would just … mutilate their victims until nothing was left."

"Creepy. Sounds like something that would lurk around Woodsboro." He shudders. Jamie is already walking ahead. He hears a noise behind him and hurries after her. "Hey, wait up!"

They round a corner, finding themselves surrounded by mirrors.

"I thought the exit was this way." Jamie folded her arms, thinking to herself. She looked around. "Todd?"

He was gone. No trace of him.

"This isn't funny, Todd!"

Still no sign of him. She peers around the corner of a mirror, down the darkened hallway. Nothing.

"HAAAH!"

Jamie shrieks loudly, nearly falling over. It was Todd, chuckling.

"That is not funny! That's the second time that's happened today!"

Todd appeared sheepish. "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. Besides, you're kind of cute when you're scared."

"What is that, some kind of come on?"

"Maybe." He grins devilishly, and she gently taps him on the arm.

"Don't ever do that to me again."

They look into each others eyes, their faces beginning to blush from embarrassment.

CRASH!

Ghostface BURSTS through one of the mirrors and before anyone can react, slices Todd from hip to armpit.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Todd is screaming. "Run Jamie! Get out of here!"

Ghostface grabs Todd, slamming him into one of the glass mirrors. Jamie is backing away, watching Todd's futile resistance. He rises shakily to his feet, punching the killer across his masked face. The killer doesn't seem to respond.

Instead, Ghostface punctures his stomach with his hunting knife, and Todd coughs up blood. He doubles over, wheezing. Ghostface slowly picks up a long shard of broken glass. Todd can see it gleaming in the killer's hands.

Then Ghostface STABS Todd in the back with the glass shard, RIPPING his back open, SEVERING his spine. Todd drops to the ground, in a pool of his own blood.

Jamie takes off running through the maze of mirrors. Going left. Going right. She has no idea where she is.

She is out of breath. She stops, trying to catch her breath. It is dead silent. She peers around the corner, seeing only her reflection in the other mirrors. Slowly she makes the right turn and begins going down the hall.

She moves quietly, not trying to attract attention.

BAM!

Ghostface BURSTS through another mirror, tackling her. They both roll to the ground. Jamie is up, running down the hall.

The House of Mirrors goes nuts. Strobe lights flash erratically, creating a terrifying effect upon Ghostface's mask. He chases her down the hall. She can see his reflection in every mirror.

Rounds another corner. There it is – the EXIT! She races with all her might towards it.

Ghostface reaches out, grabbing her arm, flipping her unto the ground. He stabs her in the back of her thigh, and she screams bloody murder. She tries crawling towards the exit – towards the light of her freedom.

Ghostface merely watches her, tilting his head curiously. He then reaches out, gripping her ankle.

"NO!"

He begins dragging her away from the exit, leaving a trail of blood. She continues screaming, clawing at the floor. Her fingertips become bloody and raw.

She is dragged deep into the dark of the House of Mirrors, her screaming continuing on even as she vanishes into the darkness.

…

The Ferris Wheel begins moving again, and Chuck and Hannah are deposited at the bottom of the ride. Exiting the gondola, they rush out into the center of the deserted carnival.

_Riing! Riing!_

Shaking from head to toe, Hannah answers the phone. "H-hello?"

_"Care to go on some more rides, Hannah?"_

"You BASTARD! What did you do?"

_"Use your imagination, Hannah."_

"You killed them?"

_"Well, one of them, actually. Let's just say that Todd has become quite spineless these days."_

Chuck grabs the phone. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

_"Look at you, Mr. Hero. Are you going to save the day, Chuck? Kill the bad guy, rescue your girl? Sorry, that's too cliché. Personally, I think it's a lot scarier if the movie ends with the hero dying. The bad guy getting away with it."_

"This ISN'T a movie!"

_"Wrong! It's _my_ movie! I'm the director, the producer. This is my script – you're just the actors who follow it!"_

Hannah grabs the phone back. "Where's Jamie?"

_"Don't worry, she's still alive."_

"Where is she?"

_"Come to the merry-go-round. And I trust you'll know what'll happen if you try anything stupid."_

The phone CLICKS off, and the couple make their way through the abandoned carnival. It is dead silent. The lights are off, leaving them in darkness.

There it is – they can make out the silhouette of the merry-go-round.

The lights on the carousel suddenly blaze on and there …

Jamie is gagged and sitting on one of the horses. Her wrists and feet are duct taped to the ride.

"Jamie!" Hannah rushes over, but her phone rings again.

_"I wouldn't do that if I were you!"_

Hannah stops in midstep. Jamie is crying, and shaking like a leaf. She struggles against her bindings.

_"Now where have we seen this before? Ah, I know. Jamie is your Stephen Orth, Hannah. Round two! Same rules! Answer the question right – she lives. Answer it wrong – she DIES!"_

"Please … just let her go …"

_"Sure, sure. Why don't I just untie her? You know what, why don't I just hand myself in to the police right now? Just shut the HELL UP and listen to the question!"_

Hannah is gulping. Chuck is looking around frantically.

_"How about I give you a warm-up question? Who was the leader of the cenobites in Hellraiser?"_

"Oh god … it was … I think … Pinhead?"

_"Correct! See, you're doing well. Just one more question and Jamie lives!"_

"Please … I can't …"

_"You can't? Then how about I slice her from groin to sternum right now? Would you prefer that?"_

"Okay … alright …"

_"Who was the killer in Halloween 3?"_

"It was Michael! Michael Myers!"

_"Oh, I'm so sorry. That was the wrong answer. I guess Jamie doesn't live after all!"_

"No! It was Michael! Michael Myers was the killer in the Halloween series!"

_"Except for Halloween 3! You see, the producers originally wanted to make the Halloween series an anthology, focusing on different characters and different Halloween themes. In Halloween 3, the killer's name is Conal Cochran – a druid who planned to murder millions of children on Halloween night. Of course, the audience missed good ol' Michael, so he was back for the sequels."_

"That isn't fair. You tricked me again!"

_"I didn't trick you! It's not my fault you don't know the horror genre. Too bad. Jamie was counting on you. And she was such a pretty girl too. Too bad I have to mess her up!"_

The lights on the carousel go out, shrouding everyone in darkness.

Hannah is screaming. "NO!"

There is the sound of muffled agony, the sound of something wet hitting the ground.

The lights come on, and Jamie's head is slumped forward, her body completely gutted. Her innards trail on the horse and the floor of the carousel.

Hannah is hysterical. She is screaming bloody murder.

Chuck can't even look. He grabs Hannah's hand. "We have to get out of here – NOW!"

"But Jamie …"

"Jamie's dead! And so are we if we don't get out of here!"

The two dash through the carnival. They reach the exit, to the parking lot. Chuck's car is right there. They are nearly there.

KABOOM!

Chuck's car explodes right in front of them, blowing them right off their feet. Hannah loses her sense of hearing momentarily, just able to hear the frequency of her ears ringing. She can see Chuck talking to her, but she can't make it out. Finally his voice returns.

"Are you okay!" Chuck helps Hannah sit up. "ARE YOU OKAY!"

_Riing. Riing._

_ "Did you like my little present?"_

"FUCK YOU!"

Hannah throws her cell phone to the ground, leaving it in a pile of wet grass. "We have to get to your car," Chuck yells.

They run across the parking lot. "Why did you have to park this far?"

They reach Hannah's Beetle, and she fumbles with the keys. They get inside, and Hannah tries to start the ignition.

Something CRASHES through the windshield, fracturing it. They look up to see Todd's disemboweled corpse on the windshield.

The body is shoved aside as Ghostface leaps onto the car. He breaks the already fractured glass and his knife slices wildly at Chuck and Hannah's heads. Hannah starts the car, revving the engines. As the car races off, Ghostface is sent flying off into the parking lot.

"Take that," Hannah screams.

She looks through the broken dashboard … Ghostface is gone.

"Just go," Chuck was saying. "Just go. Just drive!"

A knife suddenly PIERCES the side of Chuck's skull, and he slumps over. Hannah screams as Ghostface tears his way into the car. He grabs her by the back of her head and slams her skull into the steering wheel repeatedly.

She is half dazed, but not conscious enough to see the killer lift the hunting knife. His ghostly mask is reflected in her pupils, even as the life leaves them as a result of her throat being slit.

…

When the carnival employees return to work the next morning, they are horrified and sickened to see four teenagers and their coworker Bill gutted and hung up from the top of the Ferris Wheel.

SCREAM 5


	3. Chapter 3: Family Squabbles

I Do Not Own Scream. This is merely a fanfiction.

...

HOWARDS ENTERTAINMENT STUDIOS.

CEO OFFICE.

"Tell her that the cream has to applied twice a night now. I can't stand looking at those disgusting sores on her face anymore!"

The phone slams down, and Mr. Howards swivels in his office chair, fiddling with his moustache. His son, 18 year old Phil, is sitting opposite him.

"Tibbles still has those sores?" asks Phil.

"Yea. And they've gotten bigger. The vet gave us some ointment but it hasn't done much. But enough of that – we've got bigger issues! We should've had our stars selected by now! The deadline is this Friday – otherwise the network will shut our little project down!"

"I've been busy, Dad." Phil is leaning back in his chair. "I've had logistics stuff to take care of."

"Bah, logistics my ass! You were out carousing with your friends all weekend! Remember, your mother pressured me to give you this job. How many children have fathers that can give their sons creative control over an upcoming reality show? Do you realize how many people would kill to be in your position?"

"Relax, dad. We'll have our six stars by this week."

"You better. Or son or no, you'll be packing up your office!"

Phil stands up, adjusting his polo. He gives his father a mock salute, and talks in an exaggerated voice. "Dad, not only will I have your stars, but I can guarantee that Shocktoberfest Live will be the biggest hit show on our network!"

"Bah, it had better be! After your last screw up, I'm getting pretty unsure of whether you're fit for this position." Mr. Howards looks down at his notes. "I'll see you at dinner. You're mother's making meatloaf."

Phil exits his father's office, to find his personal assistant, Tyler, waiting for him. Tyler adjusts his glasses, giving Phil several folders and documents.

"You have to sign these, sir."

Phil thumbs through them, shrugs and tosses them in a garbage can.

"You kind of need those documents, sir."

Phil keeps walking. "Tyler, cancel all my appointments today. We're going to find our stars."

"Sir?"

"Just follow me to my car. We're going to Woodsboro. There's sure to a bunch of untapped talent there. And I have someone special in mind who could potentially boost our ratings over a thousand percent."

"Actually sir, there's someone waiting to see you in your office."

Phil shrugs. "Give them a complimentary fruit basket and tell them to come back another day."

"It's Monica."

Phil stops dead short, the words ringing in his ears. "M-Monica?"

Tyler adjusted his glasses. "I told her you were busy, but she was _very_ insistent."

Taking a deep breath, Phil turns around and heads towards his office. He gives Tyler a knowing look. "Okay, after three minutes I need you to bust in and act like I have a very important business meeting to attend, okay?"

"You say that like we haven't done this a million times."

Phil claps his assistant on the shoulder. "Good man." Taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer, he enters his office.

Monica, a sexy vixen in a short skirt, is sitting on his desk, legs crossed. "Hey baby!"

"Monica! Apparently restraining orders mean nothing to you."

"And apparently a whole year means nothing to you."

"We didn't date for a _whole_ year, Monica!"

She chuckles. "Well, what's a month or two between boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"We're not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore…"

Monica acts melodramatic. "_Daggers through my heart!_ You can't pretend we didn't have anything special…"

Phil seems to agree. "Yea, the lasagna we shared over New Years was pretty special to me."

Monica gets up from the desk and Phil takes the opportunity to wipe where she was sitting down with a handkerchief.

"Come on, we had some good times. The sex was mind blowing."

"You handcuffed me to my bed, bit my nipple and sprayed me with Windex."

Monica grins seductively. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy it."

Phil taps his pen on his desk. "What do you want, Monica?"

"Two things, actually. First, I want you back."

"Not going to happen."

Monica rolls her eyes. She then begins pacing around the office. Phil takes out an invisible gun, acts like he's loading it and pretends to shoot her in the head. Monica is still talking.

"Alright, we'll work on that one later. For now, I'll settle for work. I'm an aspiring actress, looking for my breakthrough career. And I happen to hear that you're looking for people to put on your reality show."

"Let me guess … you want on?"

"You always were a smart one, Phil." She leans over his desk, her cleavage right in his face. "I'll do anything to get on … _anything_…" She wets her lips.

"Anything huh?"

"Whatever turns you on."

"Okay. You have to agree to stop leaving voicemails, stop coming by my house late at night, stop stalking me when I'm on a date … you know what – why don't you just break off all contact with me, period?"

Monica looks affronted. "I don't think I can do that, Phil. You see, you're my soulmate."

Phil looks at his watch. "Wow, it's only 9:30 in the morning and already you've pushed me to start drinking." He pours out a shot of Jack Daniels he has hidden under his desk. He smacks his lips at the taste.

"I love Jack Daniels," Monica purrs. She crawls onto the desk.

"What are you doing?"

She crawls towards him, attempting to lick some of the Jack Daniels off his lips. He lets out a squeal and ducks underneath her.

"Okay, I'll let you get on the show if you get out of my office right now!"

"Deal." She stands up, smoothing out her skirt. "But you'll never be rid of me, baby. I'll be in your life forever. And I certainly hope you'll be more affectionate on our wedding day." She blows him a kiss before exiting the office.

Phil sits there for a couple seconds. He takes a chance and peers out the door of his office. Tyler is standing there, reading something on his Blackberry.

"Is she gone?"

"She just got into the elevator."

Phil exits his office, running his fingers through his hair, clearly traumatized. He eyes his assistant. His voice drips with sarcasm. "Good work barging in by the way. She practically mauled me."

Tyler smirks. "Sorry, boss. I heard moans of ecstasy coming from inside and I was afraid of stumbling in on something weird."

"Those weren't moans of ecstasy, those were cries of fright coming from me."

"She seemed pretty excited as she walked out."

"That's because I let her on the show."

Tyler is incredulous. "I thought that you wanted to get rid of her?"

Phil's smile is wry. "Yeah. But you know what reality t.v. does to people. She's going to make herself look like a total tool." He claps his assistant on the shoulder. "Come on – we've got work to do."

…

The flashing police lights blaze throughout the carnival's parking lot. Several coroners carry away five body bags. Two of the coroners have to stop and puke at the sight of the gutted and hollowed out bodies.

Sheriff Dewey Riley wipes his forehead with a tissue. It becomes soggy due to his sweat. "Alright fellows," he calls to his nearby officers. "That's a wrap." He sighs. "And there's going to be a hell of a lot of paperwork. By the way, good job Mitchells for keeping the media occupied!"

The other officer nearby salutes him.

Dewey tries to ring out his tissue, but to no avail.

"Here you go, sir." A handkerchief is proffered into his hands.

"Thanks Officer Hicks."

Judy Hicks clumsily salutes him. "Anytime sir. And you can keep that, by the way."

Dewey and Judy begin heading for their police car. Dewey is shaking his head. "It never ends. One murder spree spawns another, spawns another. It's like a never ending circle."

"We'll get him this time, sir. Before anyone else -."

Judy's voice is interrupted by an earsplitting yell.

"DWIGHT. YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!"

Dewey gulps, rubbing his head. "Oh boy. It's … _her_."

Gale Weathers-Riley marches up to her husband, finger in his face. "You have a lot of explaining to do, Mr.!"

"Gale, how did you even … no one is supposed to know about this. We've been keeping the media off our backs!"

Gale places her hands on her hips. "Trust me, the media isn't the only way to get information! I overheard you on your radio this morning as you were eating your Wheaties. You know, you should really turn the volume down on that thing!"

Dewey holds his hands in a placating motion. "Look Gale – this is an official police investigation. Civilians aren't allowed. Just go home!"

"No I will not go home! I demand that -."

Judy interrupts, holding a hand out as a warning. "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Riley. But you'll have to go home!"

"Oh, would you just shove it, Ms. Betty Crockpot? I'm trying to talk to _my _husband!"

Dewey clears his throat. "Listen, Gale. At home, I may be your husband, but here, I'm an officer of the law. That means you have to listen to me!"

Gale grabs Dewey by the arm and pulls him away, out of earshot of Judy. "Listen, Dewey! Have you forgotten that _I_ helped solve four of these murders?"

"There's no evidence that these killings are STAB related."

"Oh really? Were the victims called? Were they gutted? And I'll bet you anything they were strung up from that rickety Ferris Wheel!"

Dewey shushes her. "Keep it down. I'm not allowed to talk about the case with civilians."

"I am not a civilian! I am Gale Weathers-Riley, author of three books about the Woodsboro Murders, about to publish my fourth! Now get this straight – I'm an expert at solving these things. Face it, you need me!"

"I _need_ you to stay at home and -."

"Stay at home? Stay at home? Do I look like a housewife to you?"

Dewey places his hands on her shoulders. He notices the other officers are laughing at him for getting yelled at by his wife. "Gale, you're making a scene."

"Oh, I haven't begun to make a scene yet! I'm just warming up!"

"Listen, Gale. I don't want you in any danger. Every time these things happen, you end up almost being killed. I mean, you were practically stabbed in the shoulder, for goodness sake!"

"Yea, but Jill never _intended_ to kill me! She wanted to write a book with me!"

"Look, I don't care about your sematics -."

"Semantics," she corrects.

"Whatever. I don't want you involved. That's a direct police order."

Gale's eyes flash. "Oh, you're giving me _orders_? Okay. Should I go home and polish your boots? Clean the house? Iron your clothes? Pay your taxes? Make food?"

Dewey shrugs sheepishly. "Those things _would_ be nice…"

"Well too bad! I'm sorry I'm not the housewife type, okay! But there's a killer out there, and I'll bet you anything there's another massacre coming this way! I'm not going to sit on the sidelines and let him kill off a whole new batch of people. And if you try to stop me … well, just remember what Lorena Bobbitt did to her husband."

"Who?"

Gale leans forward and whispers something into Dewey's ear. His face becomes horrified, and he visibly shudders.

"She really cut it off?" he asks.

Gale winks at him, kissing him on the cheek. "I'll see you at home, _honey_."

Dewey shakes off the horror of what Gale just told him. He fumbles around for his walkie. Judy watches him with amusement.

"Oh, I remember!" He looks into the car, pulling out the walkie-talkie. "I gotta stop forgetting you." He turns to his partner. "It's like I always say, Deputy Hicks. You always find what you're looking for in the last place you look."

…


	4. Chapter 4: Kirby Goes to College

Disclaimer: I do not own the Scream series. This is merely a fanfiction.

…

WINDSOR COLLEGE

A car door opens, and a young lady in sunglasses exits. Kirby Reed grabs her handbag and several books, closing the door behind her. She makes her way through the parking lot towards the college campus.

As she walks by, people continually shout and wave at her.

"Hey Kirby! How's our town survivor?"

Kirby waves, somewhat annoyed. "Still surviving!"

"Hey, hey! How's it going, new Sidney?"

Kirby bites her lip. "Fan-freaking-tastic!"

Ignoring everyone scrabbling to say "hi" to her, Kirby quickly goes into one of the main buildings, getting ready for class.

"Hey Kirby -."

Kirby stops short in the hallway. "No, I will not be handing out autographs today!"

"Kirby, it's me!"

Kirby turns around, embarrassed, facing the cute chick behind her. "Sorry Shannon. Thought you were another gawker or something!"

Shannon waves her off. "No sweat girl, I totally understand."

They begin walking down the hall together, as more people stop and stare. Kirby flips them off.

"I would have thought that you'd have loved your new celebrity status," Shannon comments.

Kirby rolls her eyes. "Oh yeah, having people stare at me everywhere I go. People trying to touch me like I'm some kind of divine presence. And do you know what they're calling me now?"

Shannon shakes her head.

"They call me the new Sidney Prescott!" Kirby shutters. "I hate it! I get a steak knife in the stomach, and suddenly I'm the new celebrity."

"It can't be that bad," says Shannon. "Well, I mean, the steak knife in the stomach is pretty bad, but being popular can't be."

"Oh yea, because everyone totally wants to be popular for almost being butchered."

"But a lot of people seem to like you…"

Kirby sighs. "They like me because they think I'm the new Sidney Prescott or something. Every time somebody brings up what happened, I'm forced to relive it. I'm forced to relive seeing Olivia and Robbie die; having Charlie gank me in the stomach; and realizing it was my best friend behind it all."

Shannon rubs her friend's arm sympathetically. "I know it must be hard…"

"But whatever. Most people have one thing right – I _am_ a survivor. I'll get past this."

They continue walking, when they notice some kind of commotion coming from ahead. "What's going on," Shannon asks.

A group of girls run by, giggling. Kirby and Shannon catch a hint of what they're talking about.

"A reality show coming to Woodsboro! I'm so excited!"

Kirby and Shannon look at each other. Kirby is unimpressed. "A reality show? Great, just what this town needs!"

Shannon seems enthusiastic. "A reality show could be fun…"

"Sure, a bunch of assholes making jerks out of themselves. Please, no one in their right mind would ever go on one."

"I might be interested in going on it," Shannon says in a hurt voice.

Kirby shrugs. "Okay, if you want to look like a total tool."

They pass by where the commotion is happening, as a guy with glasses is handing out fliers. "Sign ups for auditions are at four o'clock in the quad. Don't miss out!" He shoves a flier into Kirby's hand. Kirby reads it.

The reality show is called "Shocktoberfest Live!" Kirby crumples it up and tosses it away.

Shannon grabs four fliers in her excitement. She then chases after Kirby.

"If I go on, would you go on?" Shannon asks.

"Yea right. You'd never catch me dead on a reality show."

"Come on, sign up for auditions with me."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

…

Kirby and Shannon are sitting in class together.

"Please?"

"No."

…

Kirby and Shannon are washing their hands in the bathroom.

"Please?"

"No."

…

Kirby and Shannon are running in the college gym.

"Please?"

"No."

…

Shannon finally throws her hands up in frustration. "You're no fun!"

…

The quad is buzzing as dozens of college students file in lines in front of a long table. Sitting at the table is the guy with glasses. Next to him is a cute guy that no one from campus recognizes.

Shannon is excitedly in line, fidgeting around.

She is joined by Kirby.

Shannon's eyes light up.

"You've reconsidered?"

"No. I'm just here for moral support."

Shannon wrings her hands as the line moves forward. "I can't wait! I really hope I get on this show."

"Don't get your hopes up too much."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What I mean is, I don't want to see you get hurt. Just promise me, no matter what happens, you won't let it get you down."

Shannon smiles. "Do I ever let anything get me down?"

"You do have a point."

Shannon finally reaches the desk. The guy with glasses points to a sign-up sheet. "We're also going to have to check your I.D. to make sure you're at least eighteen."

"No problem." Shannon goes through her purse, producing her drivers' license. The guy reads it.

"Okay, that seems to be in order." He gives her a sheet of paper, with information. "The actual audition will be held tomorrow. This sheet gives you the time and place. Hope to see you there!"

Shannon turns around to Kirby, but to her surprise, Kirby is actually signing her name on the sign-up sheet. The second, cute guy seems to be watching her with great interest.

After Kirby signs up and walks away, the cute guy turns to the other guy with glasses.

"Tyler, do you have any idea who that was?"

"No idea, Phil."

"That's Kirby Reed! The new Sidney Prescott!"

Kirby and Shannon are walking away. Shannon is completely stunned that Kirby would sign up. "But … but … you said that you would never go on a reality show."

A wry smile crosses Kirby's face. "I changed my mind."

"Well, not that I'm not excited, but … why?"

"Because going on this reality show is sure to diminish my popularity."

"Say what?"

Kirby rolls her eyes. "It's a known fact that people that go on reality shows lose their popularity and eventually become disliked. Just look at Snooki."

Amazed, Shannon merely shrugs and follows after her friend.

…

Town hall is abuzz as a large demonstration is taking place. Dozens of people rally outside holding banners and signs, and chanting slogans.

A giant banner is overhead with the acronym "A.T.R.O.D." – Alliance To Restore Decency.

Leading this new demonstration is Mrs. Grady, a dumpy soccer mom with a megaphone. "How many more of our children need to be slaughtered because of horror movies? When will our officials wake up and realize the danger posed by horror movies! Or what about our young girls who are abused in X-rated movies! Or shows with filthy language and suggestive themes! Are we going to take it anymore?"

"No!"

"We are going to protect our children!"

Dewey and Judy make their way through the chanting and yelling crowd, into the town hall. They are led to the mayor's office.

Mayor Wilcox motions for them. "Come in, come in."

"You seem to have quite a crowd, sir," Dewey comments.

The mayor waves his hand. "Bah. Mrs. Grady and her A.T.R.O.D. organization. She wants us to ban horror movies and anything else she deems as evil." He rubs his eyes. "Do you have any leads on those carnival murders yet?"

"Not yet sir. But we are working -."

"Listen, Sheriff – those murders seem to be STAB related – again. I need you to keep those murders under wraps, understand? Elections are coming up, and if word gets out that those murders were related to STAB – well, it'll give people like Mrs. Grady more ammunition to throw my way."

Dewey nods. "Understood, sir."

"We also have something else to talk about. There appears to be a reality show coming to town."

Judy is excited. "A reality show? I love those! I watch Real World all the -."

Dewey motions for her to stop talking.

"Sorry, sir."

Mayor Wilcox pours himself a cup of coffee. "This reality show … it's a horror type show. They're gonna put a bunch of kids in a haunted mansion or something over Halloween weekend. This could help boost tourism to the town. Lift our economy. But it could also bring a bunch of foolish thrill seekers and kooks. I want you to be extra on guard this weekend, do you understand?"

Dewey nods. "Yes sir. And don't worry – we'll catch the killer this time."

"Do it quietly. I don't need Mrs. Grady on my back."

"Understood, sir."

Dewey and Judy exit the office and begin making their way through the town hall. "Do you have any suspects yet?" Judy asks.

"None. The killer left no clues, no trace."

"We'll find him."

"I hope so. But how many more people have to die before we do?"

…


	5. Chapter 5: Bloodbath at Blockbuster

Disclaimer: I do not own the Scream series. This is merely a fanfiction.

…

Kirby and Shannon enter the nearest BLOCKBUSTER VIDEO STORE with their friend Evelyn. Shannon is talking nonstop about the Reality Show.

"I'm so nervous about the audition tomorrow. I mean, what if I choke?"

Kirby smiles. "Don't worry, I'll be there. Trust me, you can't _possibly_ make more of an ass of yourself than me."

Evelyn smirks. "She's right, Shannon. No one can ever make a bigger ass out of themselves than Kirby."

"If you're referring to that keg party, I already promised that dude I would buy him a new fish tank."

Shannon pats Kirby on the shoulder. "Well, either way, I'm glad you're doing it with me."

Kirby shrugs. "You know, at first I wasn't really all that into it, but I did some research. They're going to put us in a haunted mansion in Woodsboro – that's right up my alley."

Shannon shudders. "Wait a minute – no one said anything about a haunted mansion."

"Don't tell me you're creeped out."

"Just the idea of a … a ghost or something."

Kirby laughs as they move through the horror section. "Oh please. What are the odds of us actually coming face to face with a ghost?"

Kirby rounds the corner of the aisle and comes face to face with -.

GHOSTFACE!

Knife raised.

Kirby lets out a gasp, and nearly stumbles into a row of videos.

But Ghostface just stands there, not moving an inch.

A college aged dude in a Blockbuster uniform comes around the corner laughing. "You should have seen your face!"

Kirby rights herself, and then punches the guy in the shoulder. "That's not funny, Doug! You're such a jerk!"

Evelyn and Shannon come rushing around the corner to see Kirby yelling at Doug. Doug is laughing and leaning on the Ghostface mannequin.

Evelyn is shaking her head. "Doug, you may be my boyfriend, but you can be a real douche sometimes."

Doug holds out his hands pleadingly. "Oh come on, ladies. It was just a prank!"

Shannon wags her finger in his face. "It was not a prank! That stuff is serious! You know very well what … what happened!"

"Look, it's no big deal," Kirby says. "You don't have to tread on eggshells with that subject. I've dealt with what's happened." She stands up professionally and pats Doug on the shoulder. "Doug, that was a funny prank, but seriously, if you do it again, I will gut you and hang you from the ceiling."

Doug raises his hands in defense. "Point taken." He lifts the Ghostface mannequin and puts it in the corner. "Alright, now that he's out of the way, what movies were you ladies looking for?"

"We're having a sleepover tonight," Shannon points out. "Maybe a romantic comedy?"

Kirby bleches. "Come on, let's have a good ol' fashioned scare fest. I suggest, House of a Thousand Corpses!"

"Uh, I hate gruesome movies," Evelyn moans.

"Why don't we get both," Shannon suggests. "A romantic comedy and a scary movie?"

Meanwhile, Doug is looking at Evelyn with a puppy dog face.

"What Doug?" she asks irritably.

"I thought you were going to hang with _me_ tonight?"

Evelyn rolls her eyes. "Did I say that?"

"It was implied."

"Look, it's alright if you want to spend some time with your boyfriend," Kirby says. "We understand."

Evelyn sighs. "One hour, Doug. I'll hang with you for one hour, then I'm going to Kirby's house okay?"

Doug cheers. "Alright, an hour with the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Keep piling on the flattery, Doug."

Kirby and Shannon quickly pay for their movie rentals. "We'll see you later tonight," Kirby says.

"I'll text you."

Kirby and Shannon exit the video store and drive away in their car.

Doug gets a devious look on his face. "Now that they're gone …" He flips the OPEN sign to CLOSED and dims the lights. He grabs Evelyn by the hand. "Come on, I want to show you something in the back room."

The two enter the darkened back room and begin kissing furiously. They get more and more into it.

The sound of a jingling bell and a door opening stops them. Doug is affronted. "Really? Someone's just going to ignore the CLOSED sign and the dimmed lights? Let me go handle this." He gives Evelyn a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll be right back."

Doug leaves Evelyn in the back room, entering the store area. He hears feet shuffling in the aisle next to him.

"We're closed," he calls out.

The feet stop.

"Hello? Did you hear me?"

He rounds the corner to peer into the aisle –.

Nothing there.

He turns around and runs smack into -.

GHOSTFACE!

Doug starts, his chest thudding from the shock. He then smirks. "Stupid mannequin." His brows furrow as he looks at the corner on the other side of the store. "Could've sworn I left it over there though…"

He exits the aisle...

ONLY TO GET A KNIFE IN HIS THROAT!

The real Ghostface pulls the knife from his esophagus. Doug falls to his knees, blood pouring from his open mouth.

Ghostface grips his shoulder with one hand, and with the other STABS HIM THROUGH THE TOP OF HIS HEAD!

Doug's body falls limply at the killer's feet; Ghostface tilts his masked head slightly, admiring his handiwork.

The killer grips his knife between his thumb and forefinger, wiping the blood and gore clean off the blade.

…

Evelyn hears the sound of a scuffle as she sits bored.

"Doug?"

She exits the back room, entering the dimly lit store. "Doug, are you okay?" She looks down several rows. "Would you cut it out, Doug? Enough with the pranks!"

She turns the corner, coming face to face with the Ghostface mannequin. "Stupid doll," she quips.

_Riing! Riing!_

Her ring tone echoes throughout the store, and she looks at her cell phone. The CALLER ID says Doug.

She answers it. "Doug!"

_"Guess again."_

"Haha, _real_ funny. Look, stop fooling around or I'm going to Kirby's right now!"

_"But this is such a fun game…"_

"Yea, for a child, maybe! Look Doug, call me again when your balls finally drop, okay?" She hangs up and turns around -.

BAM!

Doug's corpse drops from the ceiling, hanging by his intestines. Evelyn screams, and tumbles backwards into a row of videos, knocking the row over.

"DOUG!"

_Ring! Ring!_

She answers the phone again.

_"Was that enough of a drop for you?"_

"What do you want? What the hell do you want with me?"

_"To play jump rope with your intestines."_

Evelyn is beginning to hyperventilate. She holds her hand over her mouth.

_"Doug missed the cut, but you … at least I'm giving you a fighting chance."_

"What are you talking about?"

_"Do you want to live, Evelyn?"_

"What kind of crack question is that? Of course I do!"

_"Then answer a simple question. Where am I?"_

Evelyn looks around frantically. "I … I don't know …"

_"Think, Evelyn. Where could I be hiding? Get it right, and I let you live. Get it wrong, well … I've always wanted to perform a stomach staple on somebody."_

Evelyn is shuddering. She hears the sound of the back room door opening and closing. A small smile forms on her face. "You're in the back room!"

_"Wrong answer!"_

The Ghostface mannequin COMES TO LIFE BEHIND HER. She sees him charging down the aisle at her, and she rolls out of the way, narrowly evading his knife. Video cassettes and DVDs are strewn across the floor.

Evelyn rushes out of the aisle, towards the EXIT. Before she can reach it, Ghostface CRASHES INTO HER FROM THE SIDE.

They roll on the ground together, away from the EXIT. Evelyn is the first on her feet, and she rushes down a random aisle. Ghostface rushes down the aisle right next to hers.

She stops, knowing she's stuck. He's right next to, next aisle over. She kicks off her boots to make less sound. She quietly tiptoes down the aisle. She furtively peers around the corner of the aisle.

No sign of anybody.

She silently edges out of this aisle -.

A KNIFE SWIPES VIOLENTLY AT HER HEAD!

She screams, and ducks back into her aisle.

Suddenly, the row of video tapes and DVDs is PUSHED OVER. It lands on top of her, pinning her leg to the ground.

She struggles to pull her leg free.

Ghostface appears at the other end of the aisle. He slowly begins advancing on her.

Her struggles and cries for help are futile. An idea strikes her. She pulls out her cell phone and begins to dial 9-1-1.

Her phone rings in mid-dial.

She looks down the aisle – Ghostface has vanished.

The phone keeps ringing. She decides to just let it ring, and she continues to struggle to pull her leg free from the heavy shelf.

A text message BEEPS on her phone. She reads it.

_Answer the phone, or you die now._

The phone rings again, and she puts it to her ear.

"H-hello?"

_"A trapped mouse, that's all you are. And I'm the pit viper."_

"You're a piece of garbage!"

_"Now Evelyn, it's not wise to antagonize somebody who's got you pinned. But, now that I firmly have your attention, it's time for Round Two."_

"R-round two?"

_"It's simple, really. I'm going to ask you another question."_

"Please … I can't …"

_"Don't you want another shot at life? Consider this my final offer. I suggest you take it – it is quite generous of me after all."_

"Please…"

_"What movie starring Sarah Michelle Gellar was actually a remake of a Japanese movie?"_

"I … I … think I know this one …"

_"The clock is ticking!"_

"It's on the tip of my tongue."

_"Three more seconds, Evelyn!"_

"Let me think!"

_"Two!"_

"Almost have it!"

_"One!"_

"The Gripe! It's the Gripe!"

A moment's pause.

_"After all that tension … you get it _wrong!"

"It's the Gripe! Or … or something like that!"

_"It's called The Grudge."_

"Please, just give me one more chance."

_"Sorry, no more freebies!"_

Another aisle COMES CRASHING DOWN. Evelyn is screaming, and with a final effort, manages to pull her leg free. She staggers to her feet and runs with a limp towards the EXIT.

She's almost there.

Within reach.

GHOSTFACE BURSTS FROM THE SIDE, SLAMMING HER INTO THE COUNTER!

Evelyn lays on her back, in a daze. She looks up to see Ghostface pull the heavy cash register free. He holds it over her head.

She is helpless.

Ghostface DROPS the register, crushing her skull. Her body twitches, and then moves no more.

Ghostface kneels down next to her body, producing a scalpel. He lifts up her shirt, exposing her belly, and begins to carve a word into her stomach.

When Ghostface steps away, we can see the words carved into her bleeding belly.

SIDNEY PRESCOTT.

…


	6. Chapter 6: Sidney Meets Mrs Grady

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream. This is merely a fanfiction.

…

A morning alarm goes off, ringing throughout the bedroom. Kirby and Shannon had fallen asleep in the middle of a movie. They spring out of bed, and Kirby looks at the alarm clock.

"Aaw crap, we overslept!" She rubs her eyes, trying to rub the sleep away. "We have only twenty minutes to get to the audition!"

Shannon stretches, yawning. "I wonder why Evelyn never turned up?"

"She probably got carried away with Doug. But never mind, we have to get dressed!"

…

Kirby and Shannon are sitting in a waiting room with about a dozen other people. "I'm so nervous," Shannon says. She is fiddling with her necklace, and her legs are jittery. Kirby is just leaning back in her seat nonchalantly, playing a game on her I-phone.

"I couldn't care less either way. I'm only doing this for you, Shannon."

Shannon smiles. "Thanks Kirbz. I really appreciate it."

A door on the other side of the room opens, and Tyler sticks his head out the door. "Shannon! You're up."

Shannon stands up. She is visibly trembling.

Kirby gives her a reassuring smile. "Knock 'em dead!"

Shannon follows Tyler into the audition room, and the door closes behind them.

Kirby goes back to playing the game on her phone.

_Riing! Riing!_

Her ring tone blazes throughout the room and several auditioners give her scandalized looks. Kirby gets up out of her seat and goes to stand in a quieter corner of the room. She answers the phone.

"Hello?"

_"Hello Kirby. Remember me?"_

Time seems to slow. Kirby adjusts the phone to her ear. "Who is this?"

_"You tell me. Go on, take a stab at it!"_

Kirby rolls her eyes. She's not buying. "Look, this is like the tenth prank caller pretending to be Ghostface this week. I'm kind of busy right now, so I hope you'll forgive me if I hang up." She speaks in a sarcastically sweet voice.

_"Don't hang up on -."_

"Buh-bye."

She clicks the END CALL button on the phone, placing it back in her pocket. She goes to sit down, cursing under her breath.

The door to the audition room opens, and Shannon exits, a distraught look on her face. Kirby stands up to greet her. "How'd it go?"

Shannon is shaking her head. "I … I didn't do so hot, Kirbz. I … I don't think I got it."

Kirby embraces her. "It's going to be alright, girl. You don't know that for sure yet."

"I did terrible."

"Don't beat yourself up. You probably did a lot better than you think."

Tyler is standing there with a clipboard. "Kirby. We'll see you now."

Shannon squeezes Kirby's shoulder. "Your turn. Go get 'em, Kirbz."

Kirby hugs Shannon one last time before following Tyler inside the audition room.

There is a long white table with three other people seated at it like a judge panel. Tyler takes his place at the end.

There is a lone chair in the middle of the room. Kirby sits down, prepping herself for the audition.

The older man at the table leans forward, playing with his moustache. "I am Mr. Paul Howards. I'm the big guy in charge." He acknowledges the younger guy sitting next to him. "This is my son, Phil. He's one of the executive producers of the show." He looks at her very seriously. "So tell us a little about yourself, Miss … Reed, is it?"

"Yup. Kirby Reed."

Mr. Howards sifts through some paperwork. Phil, however, leans forward. "Wait a minute. Kirby Reed? _The _Kirby Reed?"

"The one and only … I think."

Phil seems excited. "You're … you're one of the survivors of the Reboot Murders, aren't you? You're the 'new Sidney Prescott'?"

Mr. Howards stops what he's doing and starts. All eyes are on Kirby.

Kirby facepalms. "Oh … great. You guys have heard about me too…"

"Who hasn't?" Phil is becoming more excited by the minute. "You're a nationwide sensation!"

"Just what I always wanted," Kirby says through gritted teeth. She does not seem too happy that her fame has spread this far.

Phil raises a finger. "Give us a minute, Miss Reed." He turns and begins whispering with his father, Tyler and the fourth person.

Kirby fidgets uncomfortably as they talk about her as if she weren't there.

The talking ceases, and Mr. Howards clears his throat, adjusting his tie. "Ms. Reed after a long deliberation -."

"Long deliberation? That was like five seconds."

"Regardless, we have decided to place you on our show."

Kirby raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Really?" she says slowly. "And you decide just like that?"

Phil leans forward. "Look, Ms. Reed. We believe that you are exactly the kind of person we want on our show. I mean, it _is_ a horror show after all, and you …" His voice trails off.

"No, go ahead – you've already said it. You want me because you think I'm the new Sidney Prescott. Tell me I'm wrong."

Mr. Howards clears his throat. "Nope. That's about right."

"You would really boost our ratings," Phil agrees.

Kirby leans back in her chair, folding her arms. "I'll do it. But on one condition. You have to put my friend Shannon on the show."

The panel looks at each other darkly, shaking their heads.

Phil tries to be delicate. "Look, Ms. Reed. Your friend Shannon would be a wonderful television star, but she's not exactly _right_ for this show."

Kirby snorts. "Regardless … Shannon and I – we're a package deal. You want one, you have to take the other. But I suppose if you don't want me to boost your ratings…" Her voice trails off, and she picks up her purse as though she's leaving.

Mr. Howards raises his hand. "Wait."

Kirby stops, looking at him curiously.

"Fine. Bring your friend in here. We need you to sign some contracts."

"Thank you, gentlemen. I knew you'd see reason."

At that moment, the door to the audition room bursts open as Dewey and Judy stumble in.

Mr. Howards stands up. "What is this interruption? You're not authorized -."

Dewey flashes his sheriff badge, and Mr. Howards shuts up instantly.

Kirby is shocked. "Dewey, what's going on?"

Dewey places his hand on Kirby's shoulder. "Kirby, I need you to stay calm."

"Don't screw around with me, Dewey! What happened?"

"I need you and Shannon to come down to the police office with me right now."

Kirby protests. "Look, whatever it is, I didn't do it!"

Mr. Howards suddenly stands up. "You don't have any right to – GAH!"

He rolls around on the ground, frantically rubbing his eyes. Judy stands there with a can of pepper spray, looking sheepish. "Sorry," she mutters. "You startled me."

…

Kirby and Shannon are sitting the sheriff's office opposite Dewey. Judy places two cups of cocoa in front of them. "I have some nice lemon squares that might make you feel better." She exits the room, leaving the two girls with Dewey.

Shannon is staring off into space, shaking her head. Kirby's eyes are red from crying. "I can't believe … Evelyn."

"I'm very sorry girls. It's not easy to lose someone you care about."

Kirby looks at him. "Do you know that from personal experience?"

A bittersweet smile crosses Dewey's face, and a tear rolls down his cheek. "Yes."

Shannon looks up, fright on her face. "You don't think … that this is another STAB-related killing spree, do you?"

"It certainly looks like it. We have five victims at a carnival – gutted and strung up on the Ferris Wheel. Two more last night – the one victim was called."

"Can't you trace the call?" asks Shannon.

"Afraid not. It was BLOCKED … and besides, the killer probably isn't stupid enough to use his own cell phone. He probably nabbed somebody else's."

"I received a call," Kirby says suddenly. All eyes on her. She sighs. "While I was in the waiting room at the audition. I thought it was just another prank call since I get them all the time."

"It could have been a prank," Dewey says. "It could also have been the killer." He gets up and begins pacing. "Regardless, we need to keep you under supervision, Kirby. Just as a precaution."

Kirby rolls her eyes. "Like that'll do any good."

"We don't have anything better, Kirby."

Kirby thinks for a moment. "You said Evelyn's body had something carved into it."

"A name. Sidney's name to be exact."

"So you think the killer's after Sidney?"

Dewey nods. "Probably trying to draw her out of hiding."

A new voice rings out behind them. "Somebody say my name?"

Everyone looks up to see Sidney Prescott standing in the doorway. Judy is trying to offer her some lemon squares.

"Well don't just stand there with your mouths hanging open – somebody give me a hug!"

Kirby hugs the older woman, and a very shocked Dewey embraces her as well. "What are you doing here?" Dewey asks.

"You guys aren't really doing a good job of keeping a lid on these murders, Dewey."

Dewey raises an eyebrow. "Oh really? Mitchells has been keeping the media running in circles."

Sidney raises a finger knowingly. "But there's more than one medium than the ten o'clock news."

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know, psycho websites and such." She gives him a wry smirk. Her eyes fall back on to the two girls sitting there. "Oh and Kirby, congratulation on the t.v. show. Judy was telling me all about it as I came in!" She acknowledges the second girl. "And you two, uh …"

"Shannon," the girl finishes for her.

Dewey sighs. "You guys are going to hate me for this … but I really don't think you should go on this show."

Shannon and Kirby both stand up. "What? Come on! You can't be serious?"

Sidney motions for them to be quiet. "Actually, I think this might work to our advantage."

Dewey turns on her. "What do you mean?"

"History shows that the killer always goes after the survivors of a previous massacre. Well, he's already lured me here. And, he's already targeted two of Kirby's friends as well as called her."

"I'm still not following."

Sidney sighs. "We allow Kirby to go on the television show. We secretly station cops around wherever it's being filmed, and when the killer strikes – BAM! We got him!"

Dewey seems intrigued. "You're using her as bait!"

Kirby is not so impressed. "Bait?"

…

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Mrs. Reed." Sidney is in Kirby's kitchen, helping Mrs. Reed set the plates for dinner.

"Oh, no problem Sidney. It's always nice to have an extra set of hands to help out. Kirby never does."

Kirby is reclining on her couch chewing bubblegum. She blows an enormous bubble.

"She's a good kid," Sidney remarks.

Mrs. Reed agrees. "She's been through a lot. Not just with the … you know. But with her father leaving and everything else."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. You aren't the floozy he cheated with. And I've managed to go on. That's what Kirby and I do – we're survivors Sidney. Something the three of us have in common."

There is suddenly the loud noise of people chanting and police sirens. Kirby flips herself upright on the couch as Sidney and Mrs. Reed go to the window.

CRASH!

The window shatters as something heavy is thrown at it. Kirby picks it up and looks at it. It's a brick with a note attached. Kirby reads it, her eyes widening with shock.

The note says: YOU'RE THE ANGEL OF DEATH, SIDNEY. LEAVE WOODSBORO AND BURN IN HELL!

Sidney looks at the note, hurt crossing her face.

The three women go outside to see a crowd forming across the street and several cops trying to control them. It's an angry mob, with A.T.R.O.D. banners. Mrs. Grady is leading the crowd, shouting into her megaphone.

"WILL WE ALLOW THIS ANGEL OF DEATH TO STAY IN OUR TOWN?" Mrs. Grady's screeching is constant. The mob is screaming with agreement.

One of the cops stops the trio of women. "We can't let you go out there," the cop warns. "This crowd might get out of control."

"It's okay," Sidney soothes. "I've handled four psycho killers with a fifth one lurking around right now. I think I can handle a soccer mom."

Sidney approaches the crowd, who begins shouting at her.

"It's all your fault Sidney!"

"You might as well have killed all those children!"

Sidney stops as she comes face to face with Mrs. Grady, who lowers her megaphone.

"Can I help you," Sidney asks politely.

Mrs. Grady cocks her head. "Ah, the angel of death."

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?"

"Because it's what you are. Look dear, I don't mean to be rude, and I'm sorry about the brick thrower, but let's cut to the chase. My organization and I feel that you are a threat to the safety of this town and we want you to leave – immediately!"

Sidney can't help but chuckle. "_I'm _the threat? And I suppose that a masked killer making creepy phone calls is nothing but Mr. Rogers?"

"You're the reason he's here," Mrs. Grady responds. "You're the reason all the killers come here. You attract them. And, unfortunately, you have a way of getting those around you killed! So, we want you to leave – and take that killer with you!"

"If I leave, there's no guarantee the killer will follow."

"Of course there is! Don't be stupid! It's always about you … and your mother."

"And what do you know of my mother?"

Mrs. Grady smiles. "I went to high school with Maureen. Forgive me, but even back then she couldn't keep her legs crossed to save her life. Maybe if she hadn't been such a slut, none of this would've have happened. It's her fault – and by affiliation, yours!"

"My mother may have had her faults, but-."

"Your mother was a dirty whore who launched the worst killing spree this nation has ever seen! And you coming back here … it's all going to get worse, Ms. Prescott. Maybe if you would just go rot in a corner and die, we'd be all better off!"

Kirby pops up by Sidney's side, having fought her way through the crowd. "Well if it isn't Miss Gulch," she says sarcastically.

Mrs. Grady puts her hands on her hips. "Ms. Reed. Just in time." She looks back at Sidney. "You have no idea how you affect everyone around you. Do you want to see, Ms. Prescott? Do you want to see the people whose lives you've destroyed?" She whistles, and a man comes over. He looks worse for the wear.

Kirby recognizes him. "Mr. Morris?"

"Olivia Morris' father," Mrs. Grady announces.

"My daughter was brutally murdered last year, Sidney. We couldn't … we couldn't even have an open casket for her." He is choking on his words.

Sidney reaches out to touch him. "Mr. Morris, I'm so sorry."

He throws her hand off. "Don't touch me. It's your fault, Sidney. If you hadn't have come back last year, my daughter would still be alive!"

"You can't blame her for that," Kirby retorts. "It was her psycho cousin!"

"Who also happened to be your best friend," Mr. Morris shouts. "If anything, you should be on _our_ side, Kirby!"

"Yeah, whatever. Keep throwing bricks at people's houses as though that's going to bring your loved ones back. Come on, Sidney." Kirby grabs Sidney's arm and the police escort them back to their house.

Mrs. Grady takes up her chanting.

"ANGEL OF DEATH! ANGEL OF DEATH!"

Sidney and Kirby return back into the house, and Kirby notices a small tear forming in the corner of Sidney's eye.

…


	7. Chapter 7: Kincaid and Turner

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Scream. This is Merely a Fanfiction.

…

SHERIFF'S OFFICE – MORNING

Dewey groans as he and Judy enter the police station. Judy looks at him curiously. "Tired sir?"

"You could say I had a long night…" There are bags under Dewey's eyes.

"If I may be so bold sir … is it home trouble?"

Dewey groans again as he places a pot of coffee in the maker. "Gale hasn't really been speaking to me. She's hoarded herself into her room, sitting at her computer. Every time I try to talk to her, she points at my crotch and makes a snipping motion with her fingers." He visibly shudders.

Judy sighs regretfully. "At least you have someone to come home to, sir. All I have waiting for me is a bag of old potato chips and my soap operas."

"Don't worry Judy – the right guy will come along."

Judy gives him an appraising look that Dewey seems to miss. "Who knows – I might have already met him."

Dewey is ignorant of the true meaning behind her words. "That's the spirit …" He pours himself a mug of coffee and unlatches the door to his office. To his surprise he finds that his office door has already been unlocked.

"Well that's unusual."

He places the mug aside, and rests his hand on his holster. Judy seems to catch on, and her hand works her way to her sidearm.

Dewey nods, before bursting into his office, gun drawn. "Freeze!"

Gale is sitting behind his desk, an eyebrow raised. Sidney is standing next to her, an amused look crossing her features.

Dewey lowers his weapon. "Gale … what are you … how'd you even …?"

Gale rolls her eyes. "How'd I get in here? You left your spare keys in my car again. And put that gun away, Kindergarten Cop."

Dewey holsters his weapon. "You know you're not supposed to be in here when I'm not around, Gale. And Sidney … I'm surprised at you. You should know better."

Sidney waves him off. "What can I say? Gale has a bad influence on me."

Judy rushes over to the sheriff's side. "Should I escort them off the premises sir?"

Dewey is rubbing his eyes in frustration. "No … that won't be necessary, Deputy." He turns to his wife. "What's this about, Gale?"

Gale slams a manila envelope crammed with papers and newspaper clippings onto the desk. "I've got some leads on the murders."

"Come on, Gale. I already told you – I don't want you getting involved in all this."

She snorts in derision. "Yea, try to stop me." Next to her, Sidney is chuckling.

Dewey is getting more frustrated by the second. "Look, like I told you the other day, I've got this under control."

"That's why two more teenagers were murdered at Blockbuster – on _your _beat!"

"That was … unexpected."

"Unexpected? _Unexpected_? Are you kidding me right now, Dewey? Did hanging around with Hicks over here make your brain shrink?"

Sidney decides to step in to prevent an argument from breaking out. "Gale's been looking into the victims' backgrounds. She showed me her findings this morning. Dewey, I really think you should listen to what she found out."

Dewey sighs, before sitting down across from Gale. "I need some more coffee…"

Judy is on it immediately. "Right away sir."

Dewey takes off his hat and leans back in the chair, relaxing. "Okay Gale, what leads do you _think _you found?"

A grin crosses the former reporter's face as she opens the envelope and pulls out a picture of a pretty looking girl. "Hannah Lynn – one of the first victims killed at the carnival – as you know. I did some background research on her – turns out that she starred in a commercial when she was twelve. Her parents filed a lawsuit against the agency in order to have the commercial pulled."

Dewey stares blankly. "So?"

"So … don't you find it a little odd that a young girl's parents would just up and decide to have their daughter's commercial pulled? Their little girl's big moment in the spotlight, and they decide to put the kibosh on it?"

Dewey swallows hard. "Did you find out _why_ they wanted it pulled?"

Gale shakes her head. "No idea. The 'why' isn't mentioned in any of the articles I read."

Gale shuffles through her papers, bringing out a new picture. "Evelyn Snow. Murdered the other night at Blockbuster. It turns out she also had a brief stint in acting." Gale pulls out more records. "She played a small role onstage in High School. But that's not all she did. Turns out as a child, she did some modeling for children's clothing. Apparently, she was approached for a small role in an independent film – but the parents refused."

Dewey raises an eyebrow. "Really …"

"It doesn't add up. Two girls murdered – along with anyone unfortunate enough to be with them at the time. Both had parents who refused to put them in commercials."

Dewey strokes his moustache. "We already questioned the families … but that was before we knew about all this. Maybe if we question them again, we can get a clue … or something."

Gale smiles. "My thoughts exactly."

There is a knock on the door, and everyone in the room swivels around to see two gentlemen standing in the doorway. One of them is a bit younger, while second one is someone they recognize.

Surprise crosses Sidney's face. "Mark?"

Mark Kincaid seems just as surprised to see Sidney standing there, and he swallows tightly. "S-Sidney…" The two embrace awkwardly.

Dewey stands up and shakes Kincaid's hand. "Good to see you again Mark."

"You two, Dewey. How are you Gale?"

Gale waves at him.

"What are you doing in Woodsboro?" Sidney asks.

A wry grin crosses Kincaid's face. "I'm on an investigation." He introduces the second man who is with him. "This is Detective Turner."

Turner waves at everyone. "Hello."

Dewey is surprised. "They sent you all the way out here to investigate the murders."

"Well … not exactly." Mark flashes a new badge. "Detective Kincaid … FBI," he says dramatically.

Sidney is stunned. "F-FBI?"

"It came as a shock to me too, but after that whole mess with STAB 3, I was approached with a job offer. Been in the bureau for about four years now. Turner here's been in the business for about two."

"I'm impressed," Gale smirks.

Sidney seems a little annoyed. "The FBI must've kept you busy for the past four years …"

Mark looks at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in four years, you haven't had time to return any of my calls or emails." She crosses her arms.

Mark's face looks strained. "Let's not start this Sidney. We left each other on a bad note last time; let's move on and not argue anymore."

Detective Turner leans in. "Am I missing something, Mark?"

Kincaid shakes his head. "Look, it's all in the past – let's just drop it." He clears his throat and strengthens his tie. "Back to business. I'm here on an investigation."

"My force is already on it," Dewey says. "We'll find the killer soon."

Mark smiles. "But Turner and I have found something that you may find _very_ interesting." He leans forward. "Tell me … what do you guys know about snuff films?"

…

Detective Turner is pouring himself a cup of coffee as Kincaid is setting up a projection screen. Several officers sit around a table in front of the screen. Dewey and Judy sit near the front. Gale had made a fuss about staying, and Kincaid thought it was a good idea if she and Sidney were allowed to stay.

"Alright, everything's ready," Mark announces. He stands in front of the table. All eyes on him. "For the past year, Detective Turner and I have been investigating a case going back for decades. It started thirty years ago when several 'snuff' films began circulating around the country on the black market."

Sidney raises her hand, unsure. "What … what exactly _are_ snuff films?"

Kincaid smiles. "So glad you asked. A snuff film is a movie that depicts the actual death of an individual. They're pretty big in the Chinese underground – and apparently in the American underground too."

Turner joins Mark, sipping his coffee. "Mark and I have been investigating an underground snuff film ring here in this country. People are being murdered on camera, and the videos are being sold on the black market."

"Wait a minute," Gale interrupts. "People actually _buy_ videos of people being murdered?" Her face looks sickened.

Kincaid nods solemnly. "A lot of sick people in the world … as you know. The footage is transferred unto unmarked video cassettes and DVDs. Now with the technological explosion, onto cell phones too."

"But what does this have to do with Woodsboro?" Dewey asks.

"The other day, a snuff film surfaced on the streets of Hollywood. There are at least a dozen copies of the video in circulation." He nods at Turner, who turns out the lights and begins the projector. "Hold your stomachs folks."

Everyone stares at the screen as the snuff film commences. The entire audience is shocked as an old carnival worker – Bill - is attacked by Ghostface and his stomach ripped open. The film cuts to the House of Mirrors. Strobe lights are flashing erratically as Todd's spine is ripped out. It cuts to Hannah and Chuck being asked questions on a cell phone while Jamie is tied to the Merry-Go-Round. The lights on screen go out – when they come back on, Jamie has been completely gutted. The film cuts to Hannah and Chuck in a car being stabbed repeatedly by Ghostface. The film ends, and the lights return on.

Everyone is sickened beyond belief.

"Not pretty, folks," Mark announces. "We traced this particular snuff film to a vendor here in Woodsboro. We believe that this snuff film ring may have a base of operations here – and now we know that it's related to the recent slew of killings. However, if we can gather information from one of the sellers, we can shut down the film ring – and discover the identity of the new Ghostface killer."

"Do you have any leads at all," asks Dewey.

"Well, most of the vendors receive their movies from an outside party. The film ring never sells the movies directly. However, if we can find the vendors, we may be able to trace the films to the original source."

Turner shows everyone a slide on the screen of a grungy looking guy. "This a film vendor named Ernest Raw. We traced this particular snuff film to him. Our plan is to have someone go undercover and try to buy a snuff film from him. Since they operate based on third parties, we can trace the outside source. Then from there, we can get closer to the ring."

"We need someone unassuming," Kincaid says. "Someone who won't cast suspicion – can move around easily."

Dewey seems deep in thought for a moment. "I think Judy should be the one."

"I'd be happy to, sir."

Gale snorts. "Betty Crockpot? Ha! Listen, I used to go undercover as a reporter all the time. If anyone should do it, it should be me!"

Dewey looks at her firmly. "Gale," he warns.

Gale raises her hands. "Okay, okay … I won't get involved." She drums her fingers on the table, quietly humming to herself.

Dewey doesn't like the smirk that's growing on his wife's face. It usually means she's up to something.

…

Kincaid is coming out of the bathroom alone, only to have a menacing figure appear out of nowhere and block his path.

He starts – and then relaxes. "Sidney." He doesn't know whether he should be relieved or not.

"Four years, Mark."

"I know, it's been a while."

"For a long time, I've been thinking about what I would like to say to you …"

Mark raises a hand. "Don't. Okay, just don't. I'd rather not talk about what happened between us." He moves past her.

"Well I would." She keeps up the pace with him. "I just want to know why."

"There is no why, Sidney. I made a stupid mistake, that's all."

"It was one hell of a mistake!"

Mark rubs his eyes. "Can we please not talk about this? I'd rather get on with my investigation. Then we can catch those sickos, and I can get on with my life."

"And not talk to me for another four years."

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you, Sidney. And for your information, _you _were the one who left _me _back in L.A."

"Don't try to play the innocent victim, Mark."

"Why not? You've been playing the victim for your entire life."

Sidney looks struck beyond words. She purses her lips and storms past him. Kincaid lets out a deep breath, before grabbing a cup of coffee and entering Dewey's office.

…


	8. Chapter 8: The New Cast

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream. This is merely a fanfiction.

…

OCTOBER 30TH. ONE DAY BEFORE HALLOWEEN. FIRST OFFICIAL "SHOOTING" OF SHOCKTOBERFEST LIVE.

THE RUTHEFELLER ESTATE.

A car, escorted by two patrol cars, pulls up into the long driveway of the old Ruthefeller estate just on the outskirts of Woodsboro. The estate is enormous, with literally acres of land.

Kirby and Shannon exit the car, each holding a suitcase. Kirby whistles. "Nice place. I'm beginning to think signing up for this gig may not have been that bad of an idea."

Shannon's face is dreamy as she walks along the stone driveway towards the entrance foyer. "I can't wait to meet our roommates! Maybe a cute guy …"

Kirby shrugs. "As long as they're normal."

"Since when is anyone we meet normal?"

"Good point."

They step into the foyer of the mansion, looking around. "Is anyone here?" Shannon asks.

"Yo, anyone home?" Kirby's voice rings throughout the building.

No response.

Kirby lets out a melancholy sigh. "Okay, this is just like the beginning of almost every scary movie I've seen."

Shannon looks at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we're supposed to come to a haunted house, and no one's here to greet us. I'll tell you what happens next. I go outside, and something jumps out at me, startling the audience. Of course, it's nothing harmful – most likely the guy who invited us here. Or the creepy butler. It's called the false tap-on-the-shoulder routine."

Shannon raises an eyebrow. "Wow, you seem to have thought this through."

"Hey, I'm a movie geek. It's what I do." Kirby steps outside, standing on the front porch. She looks around the front of the estate, her eyes squinted in the afternoon sun.

Shannon stands in the doorway, looking around. "See anything yet, Kirbz?"

"Nope, nothing."

"So much for your movie knowledge."

Shannon turns around back into the house and -.

BAM!

Someone springs out of nowhere, causing Shannon to shriek and nearly fall over. Kirby whirls around, back into the foyer. "Shannon, you alright?"

Shannon is breathing deeply, nearly hyperventilating. "I'm fine … fine. Just … let me catch … my breath."

Standing in front of her, rubbing his head sheepishly, is Tyler.

"Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you. I just heard your voices down here…"

Shannon points her finger at him. "You need to be more careful about creeping up on people!"

He flashes an embarrassed grin.

Another voice comes from the top of the stairs. "Tyler, what's going on? Oh good, more of our cast has arrived." Phil jogs down the stairs, shaking hands with Kirby and Shannon. "Nice to see you both again. Most of your roommates have already arrived. Come on, I'll show you to your room."

Shannon can't help but notice the way Tyler is staring at her. She shifts uncomfortably.

"Tyler, take the ladies' bags," Phil orders.

"With pleasure," Tyler says, shooting Shannon a goofy smile. Shannon tries her best to smile back. Tyler grabs Shannon's suitcase, completely ignoring Kirby's.

"Thanks a lot," Kirby says with sarcasm as she bends down to pick up her own luggage.

Phil leads them up the main stairways, through a series of halls. "It's very easy to get lost in this place," he warns. "It's very important to go nowhere by yourself – not even the bathroom."

"That's okay, I've been trained to go on the newspaper," Kirby quips.

"Ah, here we are," Phil says as stands before a bedroom door. "The pink room. This is the girl's bedroom. You'll be spending tonight and tomorrow night in here. And I'm pretty sure one of your roommates is already here. Let me just check." He knocks on the door.

"Just a minute," a nasal voice comes from the other side. They hear the sound of someone scrambling around, and then the sound of an aerosol can spraying.

"Okay," the nasal voice says. "Everything's been disinfected."

Kirby and Shannon share worried looks as they enter the bedroom. But the bedroom … well, it looked almost like a hospital room. There were disinfectants, soaps, lotions all over the place. A girl with frizzy hair and thick glasses was sitting on a bed. A bed that was covered in plastic.

"Kirby, Shannon – this is Beth," Phil introduces.

In her excitement, Shannon runs over and shakes hands with Beth. "OMG, it's _so_ nice to meet you!" She is shaking hands frantically with the girl, who has a look of terror on her face. As soon as Shannon lets go of her hand, Beth immediately begins rubbing hand sanitizer into her palm.

"Likewise," she says unsteadily, eyeing her as though Shannon had just slapped her.

"And I'm Kirby."

Beth gives her a short nod.

Kirby looks around and notices four beds. "I want the one by the window."

"You can have it," Beth says with disgust. "Do you know how much bacteria and pollen get blown into beds by the window? It'll make your hair curl."

_"Or in her case, frizz," _Kirby whispers to Shannon.

Shannon is about to sit on her bed, but Beth lets out a wail. "WAIT!" She rushes forward, putting a plastic cover on Shannon's bed. "Okay, you're safe."

Shannon and Kirby exchange more confused looks.

Kirby decides to start a conversation. "So … Beth. What do you like to do for fun?"

"I like to program computers."

"Oh really, you're into computers? I'm more of an HP girl, what about you?"

"I like Dells."

Shannon interrupts. "Okay, this geek talk is confusing me."

"What about you guys? What do you like to do?" Beth asks as she begins wiping down the nightstand.

"I like going for runs," Shannon says.

Beth snorts. "I can't do outdoor stuff like that. The fresh air makes me break out in hives." She stands up. "Okay, I think I need to freshen up." She stands up, walking past Tyler and Phil who are standing in the doorway, trying not to laugh at her.

As soon as she's gone, Tyler, Phil, Kirby and Shannon all burst out laughing.

"What did you get us into?" Kirby asks Shannon, the laughter coming in spasms. "She's Niles Krane!"

"Seriously, what's with the plastic covers?" Shannon inspects the plastic bed covers, her nose wrinkling.

"Well, now that you've met Beth, how about I take you to meet your guy cast-mates?" Phil motions for them to follow him.

He takes Kirby and Shannon down the hall – Tyler walks behind them and Shannon gets the sneaking suspicion that he's doing it to check her out.

Phil stands in front of a closed bedroom door and loudly knocks. They hear a loud male voice yelling from inside.

"FREAKING NOOBS! HAD TO BREAK MY CONCENTRATION!"

"Oh would you just shut up?" comes another voice. "Seriously, _I'll _answer it."

The door opens to reveal a cute guy in a t-shirt and jeans. "What's going on?"

"Evan," Phil nods. "I'd like to introduce you to Kirby and Shannon."

Evan doesn't even shake their hands. "What up?" He turns and walks back into the room.

"Not the most social guy," Phil says. He leads the two girls into the room. Evan is flopped back on the bed, magazine covering his face and music blaring in his I-pod.

"And this is Justin," Phil says.

Justin, a large guy with cornrows, is sitting on his bed, playing Mortal Kombat on a t.v. screen.

"Seriously, Justin?" Phil's voice is incredulous. "I told you not to bring your TV. or X-Box."

Justin doesn't even look at him – his concentration is too fixated on his video game. "It's not an X-Box, noob. It's an X-Box 360."

Phil raises his hands. "Sooorrryyy."

Justin suddenly gets really into the video game. He is now standing up, making loud yelling noises. "Come on, come on, come on! YES! OWNED! Now for the fatality!" Everyone watches the Mortal Kombat character on screen rip his opponent's legs off and beat him with it. Justin is yelling in his excitement. "Get on my level, bitch! GET ON MY LEVEL!" He does a crazy victory dance.

"Relax dude, it's a video game," Phils says.

"You want a piece of me, Phil? One on one, right now!" He offers him a game controller.

"I'll pass."

"It's 'cuz you don't compare to my skillz."

"I'll play," Kirby suggests.

Justin nods. "Another noob steps up to the challenge. Fine. I'll go easy on you."

"Don't," Kirby says.

In a matter of one minute, Kirby easily defeats Justin.

Justin is flipping out. "Rematch! Rematch!"

"I don't believe in playing the same person twice," Kirby says. "It's was … nice … meeting you both," she says to Evan and Justin before leaving the room with Shannon and Phil.

"You know he's going to bug you about having a rematch," Phil says.

"I know," replies Kirby. "But if there's one thing hardcore gamers can't stand, it's getting beaten and getting denied a rematch."

"Well, was that everybody?" Shannon asks.

"No," Phil replies. "The last roommate still hasn't arrived."

"Oh? Who is it," Shannon asks.

A voice comes from behind them. "Heyyy, babyyy!"

The theme from _Psycho_ begins playing as Phil slowly turns around, the color draining from his face. "M-Monica!"

Monica drops her bags and charges Phil, leaping all over him, planting hungry kisses all over his face and lips.

Phil is waving his arms around, frantically trying to dislodge her. "Tyler! Tyler! A little help here!"

Tyler sighs and manages to pry Monica off of Phil. Phil is wiping his face on his sleeve, a look of disgust on his face. "Now Monica, what did I tell you?"

"It's what you didn't tell me," she pouts. "You didn't tell me you loved me."

"I _don't_ love you!" He sees Kirby and Shannon staring at him. "I don't," he repeats more seriously. He turns to Monica. "I told you if you were going to do the show, I need _personal space_."

"I gave you personal space. I haven't called you all week."

"And it must've taken a lot of self-restraint." He sighs. "Tyler, show her where she'll be staying. I _really _need a valium." Tyler begins leading Monica down the hall, with Kirby and Shannon in tow.

Shannon holds out her hand to shake Monica's. "I'm Shannon."

Monica looks at her with disgust. "Listen babe, I don't touch people who aren't famous."

Shannon retracts her hand. "Well, maybe you've heard of Kirby Reed." She shoves Kirby right at Monica.

"Never heard of you. Were you on a Tampax commercial or something?"

Kirby's face contorts with shock. _"Tampax commercial?"_

"Look, it doesn't matter. Just stay out of my hair and I'll stay out of yours. And stay away from Phil – he's mine!"

Kirby shakes her head as she follows them back to their bedroom. "What did I get myself into?"


	9. Chapter 9:The Investigation Continues

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction

…

Mark Kincaid slipped off his sunglasses as he and Detective Turner approach a nice looking house in the middle of Woodsboro. Kincaid looks at the address written down. "Looks like the right place."

"Do you think they'll give us any leads?" asks Turner.

Kincaid shrugs. "Possibly. Or a couple of dead-ends." He rings the doorbell, and a distraught man appears.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Kincaid and Turner flash their badges. "Detectives Kincaid and Turner, FBI. We'd like to ask you a couple of questions, if you have the time Mr. Snow."

The man (Mr. Snow) seems to grow very upset. "Listen, I already the Sheriff everything I know."

Kincaid clears his throat. "Not about the murder, per se. Just, questions about your daughter in general. May we come in?"

Sputtering, Mr. Snow opens the door further to allow the men entry. "Sorry about your loss by the way," Turner says sympathetically.

Mr. Snow yells into a back room. "Honey! We have some … guests."

A disheveled and clearly grieving Mrs. Snow comes in, and sees the two gentlemen in suits. "Oh, I didn't know we were having company. Please, make yourselves at home. And excuse the mess … we haven't had much … energy … to do anything really." She seems barely able to keep it together.

They all sit down in the living room as Mrs. Snow pours them all cups of coffee. "I understand this is a particularly hard time for you guys, so we'll make this quick." Kincaid clears his throat. "We've recently come across some information about your daughter Evelyn that might pertain to her case. We'd like to ask a few questions."

Mr. Snow nods. "Of course. Anything to apprehend her killer."

Kincaid pulls out a manila envelope, and shows the Snows its contents. "It's come to our attention that Evelyn had a brief modeling stint."

Mr. and Mrs. Snow exchange dark looks. Kincaid notes their response.

Mr. Snow clears his throat. "It was not a … pleasant … experience – for any of us. But particularly Evelyn."

"Why is that?" asks Turner.

"When Evelyn was thirteen, she was approached by a modeling agent for the Mark Antony agency. He asked her to model some pre-teen clothing, and she did exceptionally well. We have some of her original photos if that'll help."

Kincaid nods. "It might. Turner, jot that down. We'll look into it." He motions with his hand for the parents to continue with the story. "Go on."

Mr. Snow seems hesitant. "Well, after she had been modeling for a couple of weeks, we noticed her behavior began – changing. She began eating less, began socializing less, became more temperamental."

"We just thought it was teenage hormones," Mrs. Snow says. "You know how moody teens can become at that age."

Mr. Snow has tears in his eyes. "But one night … I accidentally walked in on her in the shower. And I noticed … finger marks on her thigh. As though someone had scratched her. I asked her about it, but she denied anything."

Mrs. Snow continues for her husband. "After some prodding, she confessed that … several of the cameramen were touching her inappropriately. They … they …" Tears streamed down her face. "They were sexually molesting my baby …"

Kincaid gives them a dark look. "And why didn't you report it to the authorities?"

Both the Snows are crying. Mr. Snow gives his response. "Because … the corporation running the modeling agency settled out of court. They gave us compensation … you have to understand, we were in severe debt."

"My husband had a gambling problem at the time," Mrs. Snow says, and Mr. Snow quietly nods. "We would have been evicted. Lost our house. The amount of hush money the corporation gave us more than paid our bills."

"But when they approached us for a small movie role," Mr. Snow continues, "we had to turn it down. I wasn't going to expose Evelyn to that again."

Turner seems quite sympathetic towards the couple, but Kincaid has a look of revulsion on his face. "You disgust me."

Mrs. Snow looks as though she had just been slapped across the face. "Excuse me?"

"You sold out your daughter's innocence! You didn't bring those scumbags to justice!"

"We don't have to answer to you, thank you very much," an indignant Mr. Snow replies. "We needed the money."

"More than you were willing to have justice for your daughter. And how many other young ladies would they hurt after Evelyn?"

"You don't understand!"

"I understand plenty! You sold out your daughter's innocence!"

Mr. Snow stood up. "We did not! We did everything to protect our daughter!"

"No! Protecting your daughter would have been to see those scumbags behind bars!"

"We needed the money!"

"Money? And how much was your daughter's innocence worth?" Kincaid motions for his partner. "Come on, Turner! We've got enough." He gives the Snows a sarcastic remark. "Thank you for your time!"

He leaves with Turner, not letting the door hit him on the way out.

"Well that was interesting," Turner comments. "But we didn't really get much information."

"We did get information about the modeling agency. The Mark Antony agency – sounds like a scam to me. I should have asked if the agency shot any videos of Evelyn – they might have been involved in the snuff film ring."

"They mentioned a corporation. Do you think this corporation might be involved?"

"Possibly."

"What about the other victims? The ones at the carnival?"

"Well, Mrs. Riley says Hannah Lynn was also involved in acting or something."

"Maybe she did some acting for the same agency as Evelyn Snow."

Kincaid nods. "I think your hunch is correct. I think the killer may be targeting people who were involved with this modeling agency. Former actors and models who might give away some nasty secret."

"The question is, who might have a secret to hide?"

"Who indeed?"

…

Kirby sits on her bed, watching the red sunset in front of her. She smiles to herself and recites a line. "Red sky at night – devil's delight."

Shannon is lying in the bed next to her, reading a magazine. "Hmm?"

"Oh nothing," Kirby says. "I was just quoting from Tiger Army."

"No idea who that is," Shannon says as she flips the page.

Beth is tiptoeing around the bedroom, laying sterilized towels on the floor. "What are you doing?" Kirby asks.

"Can't be too careful," Beth responds. "Do you realize how much bacteria is on the floor?"

"You're worried about the floor? You can wear shoes. You should be more worried about stuff that yours skin comes in actual contact with. Like the doorknobs. And the sink faucets."

Horror crosses Beth's face. "You're right!" She grabs a spray bottle and begins spraying the doorknob and wiping it down with anti-bacterial hand wipes.

Monica comes in, on her cell phone. "That's right, Alicia. Who else is on the show? Oh just a bunch of no-talent, nobody's."

"We can hear you," Kirby yells out in exasperation.

"Correction," Monica says into the phone. "A bunch of no-talent, nobody's who eavesdrop."

"But you're talking so loud," Shannon protests. "If you don't want people hearing, why don't you take it to another room?"

Monica rolls her eyes and gives Shannon the finger. She continues talking on the phone. "Phil? He's playing hard to get, like usual. He wants me though. I can tell by that hungry look in his eyes."

Kirby rolls her eyes, an action that does not go unnoticed by Monica. "Alicia, I'll call you back." Monica pockets her cell phone, before turning to Kirby. "I saw that eye rolling of yours!"

"Oh, mean like this?" Kirby rolls her eyes again and Shannon laughs.

"Listen, I'll have you know I can have any man I want … just … like … that."

"Blow up dolls don't count," Kirby retorts. Shannon howls with laughter.

Monica gets up in Kirby's face, and Kirby withdraws a little bit. "Listen – I know you want Phil!"

"Excuse me?" Kirby asks in surprise.

"It's written all over your face. But Phil is madly in love with me! And some blonde bimbo with a man's haircut isn't going to take him away from me!"

"Man's haircut! Oh, that's it!"

Sparks practically fly between their eyes when there's a knock on their open door. Kirby looks up to see –

"Dewey!"

Dewey stands in the door, seeming quite apprehensive. "Is this a bad time?"

Kirby shoves Monica out of the way. "No. Not at all."

Dewey seems sheepish. "Well … can I see you outside? In private?"

Kirby follows Dewey out the door. Dewey seems concerned. "Something going on between you and that girl?"

"Nothing I can't handle. So what's up, Dewey?"

Dewey stops when they're out of earshot at the end of the hallway. "Listen – I just wanted to warn you … be on your guard."

"I always am, Dewey."

"No. I mean for real. This whole plan you concocted with Sidney and Gale – to use you as bait to lure the killer out – I don't like it."

"I'll be fine."

"Well, just to make sure you're fine, I have officers Mitchells and Heismith patrolling the entire estate. For tonight and tomorrow night – until this blasted show is over."

Kirby rolls her eyes. "Yea, because Hoss and Perkins did a bang-up job protecting us last year."

"It's all we can afford to spare. Kincaid and Turner are investigating any leads … but I'm not sure they'll come up with anything substantial before the killer strikes again. And all your roommates … one of them might very well be the killer. So … just stay on guard."

Kirby laughs. "One of them – the killer? Please, these people may all be crazy, but they're not psycho-slasher crazy. I mean we've got a Germaphobe, a video game nut, a silent guy, Shannon, and a big-headed bitch obsessed with her ex. Not to mention Phil and Tyler."

Dewey's eyes go big. "You're not taking this seriously enough, Kirby. All those people you mentioned – that's a pretty big list of suspects. Just promise me – you won't take any unnecessary risks."

Kirby nods. "Okay, Dewey, I promise."

Dewey puts his cap back on. "Alright, Judy's waiting in the car. I'll need to fill Mitchell's and Heismith in, and then I'm out."

He gives Kirby a quick hug, before pulling back, tears nearly in his eyes.

"What was that for, Dewey?"

"It's just … you remind me so much … of Tatum."

He turns and walks away, leaving Kirby standing in the hallway.


	10. Chapter 10: In Raw's Pad

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

…

It is evening in downtown Woodsboro. Once a quiet, small town, the downtown has been transformed into a huge tourist attraction, due in part to the infamous Woodsboro Murders. Also due to the fact that tomorrow is Halloween – a prime time for tourists to check out the murder spots.

Judy Hicks walks down the sidewalk in regular street clothes, hiding the fact that she is a police officer. She has an important undercover role tonight.

Kincaid and Turner had given her the name of the snuff film vendor – Ernest Raw, a local guy. Judy remembers that he often stands on the streets of downtown, selling t-shirts and other Woodsboro Murder memorabilia.

He had also done some hard time for selling drugs.

Judy pulls her coat tighter over her shoulders – there he is, in sight. A grungy looking guy, wearing sunglasses - even in the evening. She sure hopes she doesn't blow it.

A HAND SHOOTS OUT OF AN ALLEYWAY AND GRABS HER!

Judy's screams are muffled in the palm of her assailant's hand. She reaches under her coat to withdraw her pepper spray, when she realizes who it is.

Gale.

Gale lowers her hand, allowing Judy to speak. "Gale? What are you doing here? I'm on an official investigation, you know!"

"Oh, I know." She looks around, thinking up a decent lie. "Listen, Dewey needs you back at the office. He says he … well, he needs you to go over some reports with him?"

Judy isn't really buying it. "While I'm on an undercover job? That isn't like him. And why didn't he just radio it to me?"

"Hello? You're _undercover_! Did you want him to blow your cover! Yea, I'm sure so many people have a direct walkie line to the Sheriff! Common sense, Judy!"

Judy puts her finger on her chin. "I suppose that does make sense …"

"Of course it does! And besides, it'll be just you and him," Gale adds seductively.

Judy raises an eyebrow. "Really …"

"The two of you … alone in the office … at night … but don't worry, I trust you implicitly, Judy. I know you'll respect our marriage and not make a move on my husband."

"Of course, Gale. But I suppose I'll be going now – Dewey will want me back at the office, asap."

Judy leaves the alleyway and goes the complete opposite direction.

Gale is standing there, shocked that it actually worked. "How gullible can a person be?" She shrugs and exits the alleyway, heading straight past a couple of tourists and right towards the vendor. She makes sure that her pepper spray is in her pocket, and she has a tape recorder going in her coat.

Ernest Raw surveys her behind his glasses as she approaches. "Hello, Miss! Listen, have I got a deal for you! Two Woodsboro Massacre t-shirts for the price of one!" He holds up two black t-shirts with Ghostface's mask printed on them.

Gale pretends to be interested. "Nice. I think I'll take one," she says, hoping to gain his trust. "But you know … I'm interested in a more … visceral … piece of memorabilia."

Ernest's eyebrow rises behind his sunglasses. "Visceral?"

"Something that'll really get the blood going … a video, perhaps?"

"Ah, I have just the thing! I have DVDs of STAB 1 – 6 if you're interested! Two for ten dollars."

"I was thinking something a little more … _real_."

"Real? Doesn't get much realer than STAB. The first three were actually based off of actual murders you know!"

Gale hesitates. "Listen … I hear you have several very … _special_ … tapes in your possession. It would really make my blood boil to see _actual _Ghostface killings on Halloween night. And I'd pay big bucks."

Ernest looks at her oddly. "Are you a cop?"

"Do I look like a cop to you?"

"No. Still … there is something familiar about you. Were you ever on t.v.?"

Gale fumbles over her words. "No, no. I guess … I just have one of those faces, you know?"

"I suppose. You got money?"

Gale opens her purse, showing him wads of cash. "Good enough for me. But I don't actually sell these kinds of videos on the street … I got 'em in my apartment, if you come with."

Gale stops short. "A-apartment?"

"Don't be dumb, lady. Do you really think I would sell 'em out here and risk getting caught? It's a very secretive business."

Gale makes a split-second decision. "Fine. Let's go." She makes sure the pepper-spray in her pocket is secure.

"Cool. My apartment's just around the corner. Just give me a second to close down shop." Ernest spends a minute or so packing his t-shirts and STAB DVDs in a suitcase. He folds the table up, and puts it under his arm. "Ready to go?"

Gale nods. "Lead on."

Ernest leads her down the street, to a broken-down apartment building. They enter the front door to the building and he leads her up the stairs. As she goes up the rickety stair cases, she can hear babies crying and cats meowing and hissing.

"Are you sure we never met before?" Ernest questions again as they go up the stairs.

"Positive."

"If you say so. Anyway, here we are." He fumbles with his suitcase, his table and his apartment keys. After a few moments of jingling, he pushes the door open, and Gale follows him in.

…

Dewey is filing some papers in his office when he hears the door open. "Hello?"

He places his coffee down on the desk and steps out into the office. All of the other officers have gone home for the night, leaving Dewey there alone.

He steps out of his office into the main area. The lights are off, and the only sound is the sound of a malfunctioning circuit breaker.

His hand finds his pistol. "Hello?"

He hears footsteps coming from the other side of the room, and he cautiously moves towards them, pistol out.

The tension builds.

The footsteps stop. Then start up again. They can be coming from anywhere.

They stop again.

The soundtrack builds, adding to the tension.

Dewey sees a figure moving behind a door at the other end of the room. He advances towards it, gun raised.

He inches closer, the music intensifying.

His fingers trace the knob, before he bursts through.

The music stops.

The room is empty, and Dewey slowly lowers his gun.

He turns around -.

BAM!

Judy JUMPS into the camera's POV like a jack-in-the-box, causing Dewey to nearly stumble over.

"Sorry boss," she replies sheepishly.

"Don't … ever … do … that … again …" Dewey holsters his gun, wiping the sweat off his brow. "What are you doing back? You were supposed to be undercover!"

"I ran into Gale. She told me you needed me back at the office."

"That's ridiculous. I have everything under – wait, did you say Gale?"

Judy nods, and Dewey looks like he's about to blow a gasket.

"Sir, that vein of yours is beginning to throb."

Dewey lets out an animalistic cry, before running out of the office towards his squad car, Judy rushing after him.

…

Ernest is sitting on his couch with Gale next to him. His sunglasses are off now, revealing bloodshot eyes – as though he's a drug fiend. He probably is. He presses PLAY on the remote. "This one is relatively new – I just received it this morning. This'll be sure to get you going."

Gale watches the television screen as the snuff film begins. The latest victims – Doug and Evelyn – are in the back room of BLOCKBUSTER VIDEOS, making out, getting hot and heavy.

The film cuts to Doug walking down an aisle. Ghostface appears and stabs him through the head and neck.

Gale is repulsed and wants to look away, but she needs to convince Ernest that she is really into it. She is forced to watch as Ghostface disembowels Doug, removing his intestines by hand.

It cuts Evelyn being called by the killer, being chased and tackled and finally – her skull crushed by a cash register. The film ends, and Ernest is watching Gale's reaction.

Gale screws up her face to make it look like she was thrilled.

"You like that, huh?"

Gale nods slowly.

"Well, there's more where that came from. This particular tape – it'll run you about five hundred dollars."

"Five hundred?"

"That's the price for quality, hon. And doesn't get much more quality than the real thing."

Gale stands up. "Can I use your restroom, real quick?"

Ernest nods. "Second door on the left."

Gale stands up and enters the bathroom. She closes and locks the door, before taking out her cell phone, attempting to call Dewey.

Dewey's voice comes in on the other line. _"Gale, I am so pissed right now! You've endangered this whole investigation!"_

"Dewey, shut up and listen for a minute! This Raw guy, he's definitely involved in the snuff ring. He just showed me a video tape of the latest victims getting gutted by the killer."

_"Gale … you need to get out of there right now!"_

"Not without that tape. It could lead us right to the killer."

_"Gale, I'm -." _He never gets to finish the sentence. Gale hangs up, smoothes out her clothing, and exits the bathroom.

SHE FINDS A GUN POINTED RIGHT AT HER HEAD!

Ernest is standing there, holding a driver's license. "I knew you looked familiar, Mrs. Riley. Or, Miss Gale Weathers!"

It's then that Gale realizes she had left her purse on the couch to next to Ernest, and that he had gone through it.

…

"Son of a -." Dewey swears under his breath as he realizes Gale hung up on him. Judy is sitting next to him. "That woman is the stupidest, most … argh!" He turns and looks at Judy. "And you're no better, Deputy Hicks! I mean come on, since when do you believe anything Gale says?"

"Sorry, sir."

"We need to get there fast! Seatbelt – NOW!"

Dewey turns on his police siren, speeding right through a red light.

…

Ernest is circling Gale now, holding the gun level. "I should've known better," he snarls. "The boss always says I'm too trusting for my own good."

"Boss?" She needs to keep him talking. The tape recorder in her coat is still recording.

"The guy running this whole thing!"

"So there is a guy in charge. Tell me, is he the Ghostface killer?"

"How should I know? I've never seen him face to face! All I know is, he's some big business type of guy."

"Really …"

"But enough talk!" Ernest tilts his head curiously. "You know what … I think another film is in order. Yea, that's right. Guess what? You're about to become a star in your own movie!"

Still holding the gun at her, he reaches over to a shelf and takes out a video camera. "Smile for the camera!"

"Can I just have one last word?" Gale asks. She has the pepper spray palmed in her hand.

"Sure, let's make this tape more interesting. What's on your mind?"

"PEPPER!"

"What?"

The next thing he knows, Gale sprays him right in the eyes. He screams and drops to the ground, writhing. Gale jumps over him, heading for the door.

ERNEST'S HAND LASHES OUT, GRABBING HER ANKLE!

Gale struggles to maintain her balance. Ernest is still screaming, his eyes closed, but his fingers tighten around her ankle. He forces her to the ground.

Gale kicks herself free, but Ernest struggles to his feet, blocking her from the door.

She notices the fire escape by the window.

Ernest is blinded by the pepper spray, but he can still hear her. Gale kicks off her shoes and begins backing towards the window. She grabs a trinket from a nearby shelf and throws it towards the other side of the room.

Ernest reacts to the noise.

BAM!

He fires towards the source of the sound.

That is all the distraction Gale needs. She flings the window open and rushes out onto the fire escape.

Ernest hears the sound of the window opening.

Gale is going down the ladder into a back alley. She looks up to see Ernest in the window, trying to squint through his burning eyes.

BAM!

The bullet barely misses and dogs begin barking outside.

"Shit."

She finally scrabbles to the bottom, but now she's in a back alley.

Where's the main street?

She quickly races down the alley, looking frantically around. No sign of Ernest.

She is preparing to exit the alley slowly, taking her steps onto the nearby sidewalk.

BAM!

The bullet grazes the brick building, just an inch from her head. She turns around, her eyes up.

Ernest is advancing on her. His eyes are half open, but he's able to see somewhat. "You move another inch, and I'll blow your fucking brains out."

Gale raises her hands in a placating motion. "Okay … let's be cool … let's all be cool."

"Oh we're way past that now! First you trick me, then you mace me? Oh hell, that's just asking for your brains to be blown the fuck out!"

"Come on, Ernest. You don't really want to shoot me …"

"No, I think I really do." He raises the gun, taking aim.

BAM!

Gale winces, expecting the bullet to fly through her own head.

It never comes.

She looks up to see Dewey standing there, gun raised, smoke pouring from the barrel. Judy is next to him, struggling to pull her own gun out of its holster.

"Dewey!"

"Not now, Gale!"

Ernest is still alive, moaning and swearing. Dewey had shot him in the shoulder. Judy rushes over and turns him onto his back, cuffing him.

Dewey is talking into his walkie. "I'm going to need back-up. We have a man in custody. We need some guys to take a clean sweep of his apartment for evidence."

Gale is right there, embracing her husband. "Good timing, Dewey."

Dewey is not happy. "Gale, that was the stupidest thing you've ever done!"

"No, not the stupidest. But I got our guy – and there's mountains of evidence in there. He's got a whole stack of snuff films. If you just go in -."

Dewey cuts her off. "I strictly forbade you to get involved!"

Now Gale is getting pissed. "Forbade? Forbade? I'm a grown woman! Who are you to forbid me?"

"As Sherriff, you have a legal duty to obey my direct commands! I told you to stay out of this! You were almost just killed – again!"

"But I wasn't!"

"Well I'm not taking that risk!" He sighs. "Gale, I hate to do this, but I'm putting under house arrest!"

"House arrest? House arrest? You can't stop me from leaving my own home!"

"I sure can. If you step foot a hundred yards outside our house, you'll be under real arrest!"

"I am your wife! You can't treat me like this!"

Dewey turns to Judy. "Officer, Hicks, escort Gale back home please."

"Right away, sir. Come on, Gale." She grips Gale's arm and Gale glares at her.

"If you want to keep that arm, I suggest you remove it immediately," she growls. Judy's fingers spring open.

The Deputy escorts her towards a squad car and motions for her to get in. Gale spares a last glance at Dewey. "You better sleep with one eye open tonight, _honey_. Because the second you fall asleep, I'm getting a pair of scissors and you can kiss your penis goodbye!"

She blows him a kiss and then enters the squad car.

Dewey cringes at the thought.


	11. Chapter 11: Late-night Stroll

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction

…

THE RUTHERFELLER ESTATE – NIGHT.

OCTOBER 30TH.

"Alright everyone, sit down, sit down. Justin, turn that Gameboy off."

Justin holds his finger up, indicating for Phil to wait a second. Everyone else is already assembled in the parlor of the estate, now waiting on Justin to finish his game.

Phil rolls his eyes and nabs the game right out of his hands.

Justin flips out. "You freaking noob! I was at the last level!"

"Well you can try again later." He clasps his hands in front of him as everyone sits down on couches and cushy armchairs. "Everyone here? Good. Beth, what are you doing?"

Beth is smoothing out a plastic cover to put on her seat. "Can't be too careful … can't be too careful …"

Phil rubs his eyes in aggravation. "And Tyler, where are you?"

Tyler is standing on the other side of the room; he is busy checking Shannon out. He realizes Phil is talking to him and quickly plays it off as though lost in thought. "Right here."

"Well get over here." Phil then turns and addresses the cast. Shannon and Kirby are sitting on a couch, Evan is standing in a corner, Beth is rubbing hand sanitizer into her palms, while Monica is seated on an armchair, looking at Phil's rear.

"Okay everyone. Well, let's get started, shall we? As you all know, tomorrow night you all will investigate this house for paranormal activity. You're going to see stuff that will make your hair stand on end." He stops, noticing Beth's frizzy hair.

"Do you really think we'll see ghosts?" Shannon asks.

Phil shrugs. "Possibly. And before anyone reconsiders, just know you all signed a contract. You knew what you were getting yourselves into. Now, I have a very special guest for you guys. Give a round of applause for Mr. Sandford, our local paranormal investigator and Woodsboro historian."

There is a lackluster applause as a balding guy with a red moustache enters the room. "Good evening, everyone," he says in a somber tone.

Phil clasps Mr. Sandford on the shoulder. "This guy knows more about Woodsboro than anyone. Isn't that right?"

"You flatter me. But Woodsboro has a rich history – as well as a dark past. Murders, torture, bloodshed – that doesn't even count the Woodsboro Massacre. And a lot of sickening events took place in this very estate."

Monica rolls her eyes. "_Real _dramatic."

Mr. Sandford turns and looks at her. "Young lady, the wall behind you happens to be Skin Wall."

Monica laughs. "Skin Wall?"

"Strips of human skin were hung there for wallpaper."

Monica's eyes widen and she scoots to a different chair.

Kirby is impressed. "Awesome."

Mr. Sandford is pacing around the room – all eyes on him. "The estate itself was built at the end of the nineteenth century. The Rutherfellers were involved in organized crime. They used this place for everything – drugs, prostitution, gambling – you name it! But one night, one of the clientele had a little too much to drink."

Kirby settles back in the couch; Shannon seems a little uneasy.

"You see," Mr. Sandford continues, "one of the gentlemen friends of the Rutherfellers was turned on by violence. Sadism and masochism. Well, he invited one of the hookers to his room, and they proceeded with the sadism. Well, the gentlemen was too aggressive and too drunk – and he accidentally shredded the poor lady into pieces. That happened in the pink room, where the young ladies are staying."

Kirby, Shannon, Beth and Monica seem horrified.

"Her body was buried in the cemetery located on these very grounds. But that's not all. You see, after the Rutherfellers moved out, this mansion was turned into an orphanage, run by a sweet lady named Mrs. Hearst. Only, she wasn't so sweet when the lights went out and the doors closed. You see, she used to torture any child that misbehaved. She would put a wire with tiny razors attached into their mouths. If they cried, squealed or made any noise, their mouths would be torn to pieces. The children would bleed to death, and were buried in the orchard."

"I'm starting to get freaked out," Shannon says.

"But we're not done," Mr. Sandford gloats. He hitches his trousers up, making himself seem incredibly important. "In the 1930's, it became a mental hospital. As costs for keeping patients rose, it was used only to inhabit the most dangerous of minds – and shield the outside world from their influence. You see, there was serial killer housed here, by the name of Dennis McLeary."

"The Westside Hacker," Kirby says. Everyone gapes at her. "What? I did some reading up on serial killers."

"Anyway," Mr. Sandford continues, "one night he managed to break out of his room. He murdered three other patients with his bare hands – as well as a member of the staff. He then lit himself on fire with a kerosene lamp. They say he still inhabits his old room – which, by the way, is the bedroom shared by the two gentlemen."

Evan and Justin look at each other, eyebrows raised.

Mr. Sandford then reels in a cart with some strange-looking tools. "This will be some of the equipment you guys will use when you go ghost-hunting tomorrow." He shows them a camera. "This is a Digital Video Recorder. Excellent sound quality, also picks up excellent audio. Definitely helps with EVPs."

"EVPs?" Beth asks.

"Ghost voices."

"Wait, they talk?" Shannon is freaking. "They're going to talk to us?"

"Night vision goggles," Mr. Sandford shows them. "Just like the killer wore in _Silence of the Lambs_. Electromagnetic field detectors. Thermometers, so you can pick up cold spots. Infrared Thermal Scanners. And a bunch of other cool gadgets."

"Familiarize yourselves with them," Phil says. "You'll need to know how to use them tomorrow night."

"And what if something happens?" Shannon asks. "What if we get hurt?"

"Or one of the ghosties gets you," Monica says in a cruel voice.

Phil just smiles. "Tyler, Sandford and I will be in a room on the top floor. Each room has hidden video cameras. We'll have a series of t.v. screens up there, linked up to each camera. We'll be watching you at all times."

"That's comforting," Shannon says sarcastically, noticing the way Tyler is leering at her.

"Okay, I suggest everyone gets a good night's sleep," Phil says. "You'll need your strength tomorrow."

"Don't let the ghoulies bite," Monica teases.

…

Phil and Sandford are sitting in a control room upstairs, testing their computers and other machinery. There is a series of t.v. screens showing footage from each room in the mansion.

"I think everything checks out," Phil says.

Sandford nods. "Yup. We'll be in good shape for tomorrow."

GHOSTFACE ENTERS THE ROOM!

Phil and Sandford just stare at him. Ghostface removes his mask to reveal – Tyler.

"Guys, this costume doesn't fit! And it's scratchy!"

"I think it looks awesome," Phil says. "You look just like Ghostface."

Tyler pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Doesn't it seem a little mean, though? To try to scare them like that? And especially Kirby – after she was … involved in the massacre last year."

Phil waves away the objection. "Don't worry about it. Kirby's a big girl – she can handle a little prank."

"But what if they think I really am Ghostface – and try to attack me?"

"A strapping guy like you – you'll be fine!"

Tyler shakes his head. "It still doesn't feel right."

"Doesn't matter. I'm the boss. And by the way, you need to be more subtle around Shannon!"

Tyler's face becomes flushed and he begins stuttering. "W-what do you mean?"

"Dude, everyone can see you checking her out, popping a boner around her. I mean, she's a nice looking gal, but come on – don't make the poor girl feel uncomfortable."

Tyler grits his teeth, and takes off the Ghostface costume completely, tossing it aside. "Sure thing," he says angrily.

"Oh, and get me a latte."

"Absolutely, boss." He mutters under his breath as he exits the room. _"I hate this job."_

…

Tyler walks down the stairs, grumbling under his breath, when his pocket begins vibrating.

His ringtone blazes on.

_Riiing! Riiing!_

Tyler takes out his Blackberry and sees that the number is RESTRICTED. Shrugging, he accepts the call.

"Hello?"

_"Heeyy … Tyler, right?" _It's a girl's voice.

"Who is this?"

_"It's Shannon!"_

Tyler's heart stops. Shannon? But why would she call him? He clears his throat and tries to make himself sound smooth. "H-hey Shannon? What's up?"

_"Well … I couldn't help notice the way you were noticing me earlier."_

"Yea … about that … I'm really sorry …"

She giggles. _"Don't be sorry. I just wanted to say … I noticed you too."_

Excitement bounds in his chest. "Really?" He can't contain the smile.

_"Uh-huh. Listen, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to do something tonight. Like, you know … get together?"_

"You mean like a date?"

_"Exactly."_

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

_"Well, I noticed this beautiful little creek in the woods just outside the estate. I think it would be awfully romantic to take a moonlight stroll along it. What do you think?"_

"I shouldn't …"

_"Come on. An hour. Phil won't miss you for an hour."_

"I suppose."

_"Great! I'll meet you there in ten minutes. Ciao!" _She hangs up, and Tyler is unable to contain himself. He pumps his fist in excitement, and makes a silent cheer.

He bounds down the stairs, and makes his way through the labyrinth of the mansion to the back door. He exits into the huge, several acre backyard. In the distance is the orchard, and on the other side is the cemetery.

As he makes his way across the enormous lawn, he looks at the beautiful, nearly full moon. Just romantic.

Somewhat creepy as he passes the cemetery.

It takes him five minutes to cross the terrain and he finds himself at the edge of the woods. Using the light off his Blackberry as a flashlight, he walks through. Leaves crunch under his shoes.

BAM!

Something jumps out of nowhere, and Tyler falls backwards. He watches the shape rush off in the distance. "Just a fawn."

Dusting himself off, he continues walking, until he hears the sound of running water. Well, here's the creek. He shrugs, supposing Shannon will be along any minute.

_Riing! Riing!_

His phone begins ringing. That must be her now.

"Hello?"

_"Hey Tyler. I'm on my way, I'll be there in a minute."_

Tyler can't stop smiling. "I can't wait to see you."

_"I just have a quick question before I show up."_

"Okay. Shoot."

_"WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE SCARY MOVIE?"_

Shannon's voice changes suddenly – to that of Ghostface's.

"Nice impression, Shannon. You had me going there for a second."

_"This isn't Shannon."_

"Really? Because you sounded an awful lot like her when you asked me out."

_"Silly boy. Haven't you ever seen STAB 3? Have you forgotten the voice changer?"_

"Voice changer?"

_"A nifty little invention used by one of my predecessors. It can make me sound like anyone I want."_

"I find that hard to believe."

Ghostface's voice changes to that of Kirby. _"You still don't believe me?" _Now it changes to that of Evan. _"How about now?" _Next to Monica's. _"Or now? Do you believe me now?" _The voice changes back to Ghostface's. _"Do you still doubt me?"_

Tyler's heart is plummeting. Sweat grips him, his muscles tense. "L-look … I haven't done anything to you. I – I don't know what you want with me…"

_"Such uneasiness in your voice. Tell me Tyler – are you afraid?"_

"What difference does it make?"

_"Perhaps none. Perhaps all the difference in the world. Who can say? But I do know one thing for sure – you find yourself in quite the predicament."_

"What do you mean?"

_"Earth to Tyler! You're trapped in the middle of the woods. With quite a lengthy distance between you and the estate."_

"Come on – just leave me alone!"

_"Answer a question, and I will!"_

"What question?"

_"What was the name of the movie where the teenagers shot a documentary in the woods looking for an infamous witch?"_

Tyler gulps. "The … the Blair Witch Project?"

_"And aren't you and Phil doing almost the same thing as them?"_

Tyler is backing away now, away from the creek. Moving slowly, edging his way out of the woods.

_"I would stay put if I were you! Now, back to the topic at hand. You and Phil have your own Blair Witch Project going on, don't you? Taking a bunch of random people and putting them together in a haunted house. I must say – brilliant. But you know what's not brilliant – not doing a thorough background check on your cast. Because one of them may very well be a psycho killer!"_

Tyler's voice is cracking. "Please …"

_"And Phil was planning to have you be a fake Ghostface – scare the cast. You … as if you could do that costume justice! Well Tyler – there's been a change of plans! The Ghostface will be REAL! And you and Phil have really made my job easy. I don't have to set up any cameras … you did it all for me. This will be my ultimate snuff film! And unlike the other recent garbage I put out – this will be seen by MILLIONS!"_

Tyler backs up against a tree. He notices a thick tree branch on the ground, and he slowly kneels down, picking it up.

_"And you want to know what the best part is, Tyler? None of them see it coming. They don't have the slightest sense of danger."_

Tyler brandishes the bat.

_"Isn't it just positively THRILLING? The cameras will catch it all – me picking them off one by one. But you … well, there'll be no cameras to record _your _death!"_

Tyler is protesting. "But … but … I answered your question correctly!"

_"True. But that only gives you a head start. And to quote my predecessor – YOU BETTER START RUNNING!"_

Tyler gives out a squeal as he hangs up the phone. He raises the branch like a baseball bat, ready to stand his ground.

He looks around.

An owl hoots in the distance.

Bugs chirp.

He can hear the sound of the fawn walking around in the distance.

The soundtrack is silent.

No noise – except for that of nature. And Tyler's deep breathing.

Silence.

Zoom in on Tyler's sweat covered face.

No sign of anything …

GHOSTFACE BURSTS UP FROM UNDER A PILE OF LEAVES!

Tyler is screaming. "Shit!"

Forget holding his ground! Tyler spins and runs with everything he's got, the branch still in his hands.

Ghostface charges behind him, the silver of his blade reflecting the pale moonlight.

Tyler trips over a log … the branch rolls out of his hand. "No!"

He looks up to see Ghostface towering over him. Tilting his head, curiously. The ghostly eyes pitiless and unnerving.

Tyler tries to get up, but finds that his clothing is stuck to a bush. Ghostface draws nearer as Tyler tries to disentangle himself. The sound of the killer's black robe rustling against the leaves drives Tyler to new levels of terror.

He finally manages to disentangle himself, when he notices that Ghostface has picked up his dropped tree branch, examining it.

"No. Please …"

SLICE!

Tyler screams as the killer IMPALES HIS ANKLE TO THE GROUND WITH HIS KNIFE!

"AAAARGGH!" He gasps for air, struggling to contain the pain. "Please … please …" The pain is unbearable.

Ghostface slowly walks around Tyler's body, holding the tree branch. Tyler is shaking his head in protest, his eyes wide. Tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Don't do this … please."

Ghostface raises the branch high over his head.

SWISH!

Down it comes, bashing Tyler across the face. Tyler screams as he feels his nose break from the blow. Blood pours out. "Please …"

Ghostface raises the branch again.

SWISH!

Several of Tyler's teeth are broken clean out of his gums.

Ghostface raises the branch yet again.

SWISH!

Again.

SWISH!

And again.

SWISH!

Tyler's voice is weakening. His resistance is crumbling under each blow. His voice is barely a whisper. _"Please …"_

Ghostface tilts his head, as though he's thinking of whether to follow through or not.

Through his foggy, semi-conscious brain, Tyler prays he won't.

Ghostface raises the branch again.

SWISH!

With a final CRACK, Tyler's body finally goes limp. Blood and brain matter dribble out of his cracked skull.

The killer tosses the branch aside, and recovers his knife, wiping the blood clean from it. He then grabs Tyler's ankles, dragging him across the leaf-strewn ground, and with a forceful heave, manages to toss Tyler's body into the creek.

He watches as Tyler's corpse flows downstream, and out of sight …

…


	12. Chapter 12: The Departure of Mr Howards

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream. This is merely a fanfiction.

…

WOODSBORO POLICE DEPARTMENT – NIGHT.

OCTOBER 30TH.

ONE MORE DAY 'TILL HALLOWEEN…

"Come on – I already told you everything I know!"

Ernest Raw is sitting in custody, being interrogated by Kincaid and Turner. Dewey and Judy stand in the corner, watching the proceedings.

"We've already caught you on several felonies," says Turner. "You're already going to jail for a very long time. So why not tell us who the killer is? Who made those tapes?"

"If you tell us, the courts may be lenient," Kincaid adds.

"But I don't know!" Ernest waves his arms around in exasperation. "I always received those tapes from a third party, or through the mail!"

"You must know something," Kincaid says.

Ernest rubs his sinuses. "All I know is, there are some pretty big business people involved in this ring. Powerful people, too."

"Really? Political figures?"

"I don't know!"

"Well what do you know?" Kincaid thunders.

"There's a corporation involved. It's been producing underground films for years." He begins listing them off. "Snuff films, pornographic films, tapes of animal fights …"

"And when did this corporation get linked up to the Ghostface killer?"

"Only recently. From what I hear, the people in charge heard about the killings last year. They were impressed with how the killers filmed their murders. This new Ghostface probably decided to cash in."

Kincaid is pacing relentlessly. "Does this new batch of killings have anything to do with Sidney Prescott?"

"Come on, man …"

Kincaid's face turns livid. "I SAID DOES THIS HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH SIDNEY PRESCOTT?" He slams his fist onto the table, causing Ernest to jump.

"I don't know … I wasn't aware that she's a target …"

Kincaid is breathing through his nose. "She isn't a target – yet."

Turner puts his hand on Kincaid's shoulder. "Do you know where he'll strike next?"

Ernest shakes his head. "No. I wasn't clued into that kind of intel. By the way, when do I get my phone call?"

Kincaid wrenches a nearby phone off the wall and smacks Ernest upside the head with it. "Make it quick…"

Rubbing his sore head, Ernest begins dialing a number while the four cops leave.

…

Kincaid, Turner, Dewey and Judy all stand in Dewey's office, pacing. "He keeps talking about some kind of corporation being involved and making these kinds of films. But I can't think of any corporations that would have a hand in all this."

Judy seems lost in thought. "There's something that keeps bugging me …"

"Out with it," Kincaid growls.

"Okay, well … you and Turner met with the Snow family. Their daughter Evelyn was involved in some talent agency … they made commercials with her. Her parents say she was being sexually abused. Is that right?"

"That's what they said," Kincaid agrees. "Where are you going with this, Deputy?"

"What if the agency was filming the abuse? What if they were molesting her on camera?"

Kincaid, Turner and Dewey all exchange looks.

Dewey is shaking his head in surprise. "Gale may have been on to something after all…"

"And remember what Gale said the other day? When she had all that information on the victims? One of the first victims – at the carnival. Hannah Lynn – she starred in a commercial when she was twelve, but the parents immediately withdrew her involvement."

"It's all coming together," comments Turner. "More than likely it was the same agency."

"What if these aren't just random killings?" Judy continues. "And what if this has nothing to do with Sidney at all? What if this agency – or whatever it is – was actually trying to make child porn? And now, the killer is targeting people who may open their mouths … making snuff films out of them … making his own twisted STAB – for profit."

"We did find a stash of kiddie porn in Raw's apartment – along with the snuff films," Turner adds.

Kincaid runs a hand through his hair. "It just got that much more complicated." He sighs. "Turner and I will question the Lynns tomorrow. See if we can get anymore leads. Now if you'll excuse me … I really need a good night's sleep."

Kincaid grabs his jacket and exits the office. Turner follows him.

"There's one thing that's bothering me as well, Mark," Turner says, and Kincaid notices a wry grin crossing his partner's face.

"Spit it out."

"Why did you get so angry when you asked Raw if the killer was after Sidney Prescott?"

Kincaid's face turns beet red. "I … uh … shut up, Turner!"

…

RUTHERFELLER ESTATE – MORNING.

OCTOBER 31ST – HALLOWEEN.

Kirby enters the mansion's dining room, still in her pajamas. Breakfast was being served to the cast, but only Shannon and Justin were sitting at the table, eating.

"Oh, Kirby! I saved you a plate!" Shannon motions towards a plate filled with eggs and sausages. "I tried to save as much as I could for you – but the other cast mates were here already – nearly ate up everything."

"Thanks," Kirby says, digging in. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Nearly noon."

Kirby's eyes widen. "Noon?"

Shannon shrugs. "I decided to let you sleep in. Besides, with all that snoring you were doing, none of us wanted to even go near you."

Kirby is indignant. "I do not snore!"

Shannon rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say …"

"I don't!"

Kirby looks over at Justin, who is sitting a few chairs down. A laptop is open on the table, and Justin is completely immersed.

"What are you looking at?" Kirby asks.

"Shhh!" Justin waves a finger at her. "I'm in the WOW zone."

Shannon is confused. "WOW?"

"World of Warcraft, noob."

Kirby raises her hands. "Enough said. He couldn't talk to us now, even if he wanted to. He'll be at it all day."

It's then that they hear the footsteps of someone approaching.

"And here's the dining room – oh, here's some of our cast."

Phil is leading a middle-aged man on a tour of the house – a man who Kirby instantly recognizes as Mr. Howards, Phil's father.

"Kirby, Shannon, Justin – you all remember my father."

Kirby and Shannon wave – Justin isn't even aware anyone was speaking to him.

Phil points to several spots in the room. "Most of the cameras are hidden. We have some on the floor, on the hutch cabinet, even some placed in the corners of the ceiling. That way we can get some great footage from multiple angles."

Mr. Howards is nodding his head, a smile actually appearing on his usually grumpy face. "I'm impressed, son. I thought you were going to slack off, and play this off as a joke like you always do. But you came through and surprised me. You just may take my spot as President of Howards' Entertainment yet."

Phil is positively beaming. "Thanks, Dad. That means a lot to me."

Kirby begins chanting in excitement. "Hug! Hug! Hug!"

Phil and Mr. Howards look at her awkwardly, and Kirby lowers her head, embarrassed.

"How about I show you the upstairs?" Phil asks.

"Actually, I should really be getting going," Mr. Howards replies, looking at his watch. "My flight leaves in an hour."

Phil seems downcast. "F-flight? But I thought … you were going to be here with me when the show goes down?"

"I really wish I could Son, but there's an urgent matter I have to deal with in Jersey. I'll be back the day after tomorrow to celebrate the success of your show." He pats his son on the back. "Make me proud."

Phil gives a bittersweet smile. "I will, Dad." They shake hands, and Mr. Howards leaves; Phil stands there for a moment, watching sadly, wishing his father would come back. He shakes himself out of his stupor.

"That was such a touching moment," Shannon says. She's nearly in tears.

Phil seems embarrassed. "Yeah … well … don't tell anyone that I have a soft spot, okay?" He looks around. "By the way, has anyone seen Tyler?"

"Not since last night," replies Shannon.

"Hmm, that's odd. Usually he brings me my morning coffee and a bunch of paperwork, which I make him fill out for me anyway. And I usually don't give him days off, either."

"He'll turn up somewhere," Kirby says.

"As long as it's not my bed," Shannon mutters under her breath.

Phil rubs his hands in anticipation. "Well, are you ladies excited about the show tonight?"

"You know, I wasn't at first," Kirby admits. "But I'm actually starting to feel it now."

"That's good." He takes a hearty breath, enjoying the feeling of elation at having his own show.

"I hope everything runs smoothly," Shannon comments.

Phil shrugs. "It's Halloween night in a haunted mansion – what can _possibly_ go wrong?"


	13. Chapter 13: Judy Explains the New Rules

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

…

SUPERMARKET – HALLOWEEN MORNING.

"Thanks for coming to help me go grocery shopping, Sidney. Kirby never does."

Sidney beams as she and Kirby's mother, Mrs. Reed stroll down the aisle, stacking food into the cart.

Mrs. Reed smiles as the thought of her daughter. "Kirby may be a little rough around the edges, but she's a good kid."

"Oh, definitely," Sidney agrees. "Considering … well, everything."

"She does her best – but she does have a lazy streak. She became more fixated on her horror movies since … the divorce."

Sidney holds up her hand. "You don't have to say anymore – I understand completely."

"You've been through something similar?"

Sidney bites her lip as she places a box of spaghetti into the cart. "Well, about a decade ago I was seeing this guy … he was a detective. He was involved in the uh … Hollywood killings …"

Mrs. Reed raises her eyebrows, interested. "You wouldn't happen to be talking about Detective Kincaid, would you? I mean, he _is_ quite dashing." She makes a purring noise.

"Well, true. We were initially drawn to each other, and we began seeing each other after … after that incident. But … things didn't work out."

"There was someone else."

Sidney looks down, holding back. "There was someone else."

"How typical of men. That's why I'll never get remarried."

Sidney sighs. "Sometimes I feel like it's my fault. I feel like I drove him into the other woman's arms. With my being the victim and all. I made the relationship all about me, and not enough about _us_."

Mrs. Reed stops the cart immediately. "Do not – I repeat – do not _ever _let anyone make you feel like that! You may have made some mistakes in your relationship, but you are _not_ the one who drove him towards another woman. He made that decision himself!"

Sidney nods. "I suppose you're right."

"Damn right I am. You're better off without him."

"I thought I was. But now he's back … and all those old feelings -."

Mrs. Reed cuts her off. "That's all that it is – old feelings."

"But … deep down, I still care for him – no matter how much I may hate him. And … I think … he may still feel the same way about me."

"And in the time you were separated, has he ever tried getting in contact with you?"

"Well … not quite."

"There you go. What more do you need? Move on, Sid."

"But … I don't know if I can."

"Sidney Prescott, if you can move on after four series of murders, you can move on from a boyfriend."

"Yea well, sometimes I feel like I would rather face down a killer than deal with relationship problems."

CRASH!

Mrs. Reed and Sidney are so focused on their conversation, that they aren't looking where they're going and crash into the cart of another patron.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I just -." Mrs. Reed shuts up as she realizes that the person she ran into is Mrs. Grady.

Mrs. Grady's voice is very cold, and indifferent. "Oh, Mrs. Reed. Ms. Prescott." She inclines her head ever so slightly.

Sidney tries to be polite. "Hello, Mrs. Grady."

Mrs. Grady eyes them up. "So what are you two up to, today? Catching up on girl talk?"

"Is that any of your business?" Mrs. Reed asks.

Mrs. Grady snorts. "I make it my business."

"Because you're the town busybody," Mrs. Reed retorts.

"And you and Ms. Prescott are nothing more than trollips. Tell me Sidney, any more people die because of you?"

Sidney puts on the fakest smile ever. "Tell me, Mrs. Grady – throw anymore bricks through anyone's houses?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep my town safe. If that includes running you out, then so be it."

"Trust me, I'm going nowhere."

Mrs. Grady's eyes narrow. "Then you'll have to suffer the consequences. And let any blood that that killer sheds be on your hands." She inclines her head again, nose in the air. "Good day." She takes off, going down the next aisle.

Mrs. Reed is shaking her head. "I swear, that woman's sister must be the Wicked Witch of the East."

Sidney shrugs. "Looked like it might rain today. Maybe she'll melt."

"We should be so lucky." The two share a laugh, making their way towards the check-out line.

…

It is mid-afternoon, and the children are already in costume, making their way down the streets, trick-or-treating.

Many of them are dressed in Ghostface costumes.

Dewey and Judy are driving down the street in their squad car. Dewey's face is wretched. "Everywhere I look, there's that damn ghost mask. You'd think they'd outlaw the stupid thing with all these murders going on."

"From our point of view, that would make sense," Judy says. "But from the horror point of view, it makes perfect sense not to."

Dewey looks at her. "Why do you say that?"

"Because it ups the ante. It makes it so that the killer could be anyone – anywhere."

"Since when did you get beefed up on horror knowledge?"

Judy grins as she makes a left turn. "Since the murder spree last year. I figured, these things tend to have copycats, so why not be prepared? So I had a horror marathon for a month straight. Boy, I'll tell you, I still have trouble sleeping."

Dewey reclines in the passenger seat. "Well, you're not the only one who isn't sleeping well. Gale's pretty mad at me for putting her under house arrest. She made me sleep on the couch. And I lay awake at night, wondering if she'd be the one to finally … snap."

"It would be ironic," Judy says, and Dewey looks at her, confused.

"What would be?"

"If, after all this time, Gale turned out to be the killer. Or even Sidney for that matter."

"Gale or Sidney? Nah. I mean, Gale is pretty crazy, and she usually doesn't care who she steps on – but a murderer? Or Sidney? She might have a mean right-hook maybe, but she's not a knife-wielding maniac."

"Hey, I'm just spouting out ideas. As horror series go on, they tend to try to come up with outstanding plot twists. The killers sometimes turn out to be the main characters. Even you could be a suspect, Dewey. Or me, for that matter."

Dewey gives her an appraising look, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I'm not the killer, Dewey!"

"Okay, okay."

"I'm just making a point."

Dewey is scratching his chin. "The point is valid … but I mean come on. What kind of plot twist would that be?"

"An intriguing one."

"True. But it's one that a lot of people suspect. I mean come on, that would be a predictable route for a director to take. Too many people would suspect it."

Judy grins. "Or maybe they don't. Maybe they wouldn't expect it to happen _because _so many people expect it to happen."

Dewey's eyes cross. "You lost me."

"Say that most of the audience expected Sidney to be the killer. However, since the majority of people expect it to happen, they begin to discount the idea. The producers know it would be too predictable. So does the audience. So, they stop expecting it to happen. But then BAM! The killer's unmasked, total mindfuck."

Dewey rubs his eyes. "I'm getting a headache …"

Judy laughs. "Don't worry. Besides, if Gale or Sidney were to be the killer, it wouldn't happen until part six."

Dewey's eyes widen. "Part six? _Part six?_ You really think there's going to be a part six?"

Judy shrugs. "Hey, you don't really expect this to end with part five, do you?"

Dewey rubs his sinuses. "I don't have a headache anymore. Now it's a migraine."

Judy laughs, as she makes another turn.

…

RUTHERFELLER ESTATE. HALLOWEEN.

EVENING.

The clouds have cleared, and the sun is setting, casting an eerie, blood-red glow across the landscape.

The entire cast is assembled in the parlor of the mansion. Kirby is excited, and Shannon is fidgeting next to her. Evan looks bored. Beth is rubbing hand sanitizer into her face. Justin is playing his Gameboy. And Monica looks like everyone's attention is focused on her.

Phil enters the room with Mr. Sandford, and they immediately begin giving instructions and handing out ghost-hunting gear.

"Now this equipment is very expensive," Sandford warns as he hands Kirby a pack. "So be careful."

"How do we use this?" Kirby is looking at it as though it's a foreign object.

Sandford sighs. "Allow me to demonstrate."

He places a vest on Kirby, with a tiny camcorder attached near the head. Several wires lead up to a small microphone, which he attaches on her head near her lips.

"Uh, I feel like Robbie Mercer," Kirby comments. Everyone looks at her. "What, too soon?"

"Listen, this stuff is real easy to use," Phil says. He flips a switch, and the video recorder comes to life. "You basically don't have to do anything except walk around. Explore the house. These small camcorders beam directly up to the communications room on the top floor – just like the hidden cameras in the room. It's just that simple."

Sandford is handing out more equipment packs. Monica takes hers with an arrogant snort. Beth refuses to make skin contact with anything before she spritzes it with disinfectant.

"For goodness sake," Phil laments, watching Beth douse the sensitive equipment. "It doesn't have the Ebola virus, Beth!"

"And you expect me to just take your word on that?" she retorts.

Phil throws his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Fine, spritz away."

Justin is looking at his equipment pack for any extra plugs. "Is there anyway I can directly link my Gameboy to this?"

Phil is going nuts now, between Beth and Justin. "These things aren't arcades or toys! They're meant to pick up supernatural activity!" He watches in horror as Justin begins jamming a wire from his Gameboy into the equipment pack. "I need a drink. Speaking of which, has anyone – _anyone_ – seen Tyler?"

Everyone just shrugs.

Phil rubs his eyes. "Oh, he is so fired."

Monica bats her eyelashes at him. "You don't need him. You'll always have me, baby."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

Monica purrs. "I can make you feel anyway you want…"

"Lord, grant me the serenity …"

Sanford is looking at his watch. "Listen, it's a quarter after six. Don't you think we should get this show on the road?"

Phil nods. "Of course, of course." He clasps his hands. "Okay, so for the show, we're going to split each of you up. You'll each wander around the house, looking for signs of supernatural activity. We'll be monitoring you upstairs in the control room, should you get attacked by a ghost or something."

Shannon's voice is cracking. "Wait – they might attack us?"

"It's not unheard of," Sanford replies. He notices the green look on Shannon's face. "But very rare," he adds.

"Yea, come on," Evan adds. "What are the chances of us getting hurt by a ghost?"

"Unless it's Ghostface," Justin blurts out without even thinking. Everyone looks at him. "What? It could happen!"

Kirby finds herself agreeing. "That is true. Just … everyone be on your guard."

Phil feels a sickening feeling in his stomach. "Yea, that _would_ be my luck. Ghostface just decides to show up and ruin my show."

"It's okay," Shannon tries to soothe. "The sheriff left a couple officers on the premises. They'll keep anyone out."

"Unless the killer's already inside," Kirby says. Everyone gapes at her. "It's possible!"

"Okay, all this talk of killers is freaking me out more than actual ghosts," Phil says. "Let's just get to the actual show now, please?"

There is murmuring among the group, as each cast member goes their separate ways throughout the house. Kirby and Shannon steal one last glance at each other.

"Good luck," Kirby says.

Shannon nods. "You too, Kirbz."

Their fingers meet, and then they're off on their separate ways in the darkness of the haunted mansion.

…

Phil sits down next to Sandford in the control room on the top floor. A series of television sets are linked directly to the hidden cameras in each room, as well as the camcorders on each cast member.

Phil raises an imaginary glass into the air. "To Shocktoberfest Live."

Sandford meets it with another imaginary glass.

The two then turn as Phil begins typing into a computer. "Okay, we're logged in, and just about set. Let the show begin!"

…

The show begins…


	14. Chapter 14: Ghostface Strikes!

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

…

"Man, why do we always get the lame beats?"

Officers Mitchells and Heismith are sitting in a patrol car, patrolling the grounds of the Rutherfeller Estate.

"Hey, it's because we're new, man," Mitchells replies. "The new guy always gets the crappy jobs."

"Well I'm tired of patrol duty – when are we going to get actual cases?"

Mitchells shakes his head. "Did anyone ever tell you that you complain a lot?"

"Complain a lot? _Complain a lot?_ Oh, I haven't even _begun_ to start complaining!"

"You sound like a little kid."

Heismith folds his arms. "I do not!"

"Listen, it could be a whole lot worse. We could have ended up like Hoss and Perkins."

"Man, why you gotta bring that up? Especially out here, at this spooky place…"

Mitchells is cracking up. "I'm just saying … count your blessings. You never know when your order's up."

"Don't say stuff like that!"

"Why not?"

"It freaks me out."

"So me saying stuff freaks you out, but being out here at a haunted house protecting a potential target of a killer doesn't?"

"Why you gotta remind me?"

"Just be on your guard tonight, okay?"

"Can we at least order a pizza or Chinese or something?"

"Ugh. You're killing, Heismith."

"Why you gotta use the word kill?"

…

CUT TO:

Shots of each cast member wandering the house.

Kirby is walking around, grinning, actually enjoying herself.

Shannon is walking slowly, looking around, every small noise making her jump.

Beth is opening a doorknob with a hankerchief.

Evan is casually moving down a hall, whistling to himself.

Monica catches her reflection in a mirror, and takes the opportunity to dab on some more heavy eyeliner.

Justin is sitting in an old chair, playing Angry Birds on his I-phone.

…

Upstairs in the control room, Phil is reclining in his chair, eating a box of Reese's Pieces. Sandford is fixing some plugs.

"I can't believe it, but the show is actually going smoothly," Phil says.

Sandford looks at him questioningly. "You're surprised?"

"Well, yeah. Especially after I blew my father's last show up. I still can't believe he let me handle this all on my own."

"He trusts you. He thinks you can handle it."

"That's what I can't believe. Usually he gets on my case about being irresponsible, uncaring, lazy …"

Sandford shrugs. "Well, maybe he decided to give you another chance to prove yourself."

"I guess. Although I really wish he was here right now. To see my big success in person…"

"Your father's a busy man."

"Not really. His studio's been dying. Shocktoberfest Live is his final chance at keeping it alive. Other than that, he hasn't had any real business."

"Any real business that you know of…" Sandford's voice trails off.

"I don't follow."

"Come on … a lot of these big businessmen … they make a lot under the table."

Phil frowns. "My father isn't involved in anything illegal, if that's what you mean."

"Oh no, I wasn't saying that. He just probably has some kind of alternative source of income … you know, to fall back on in case his studio fails."

"Maybe. Though I find it strange he wouldn't tell me."

"Hey, not all parents tell their kids everything. My father had a whole second family that my mother and I knew nothing about."

Phil's eyebrows rise. "Wow. Tough break man." He stuffs his face with more Reese's Pieces.

…

It is night when Sidney and Mrs. Reed arrive back at the Reed's residence. They pull into the driveway only to see Mrs. Grady and her protestors standing across the street, chanting and yelling.

Mrs. Reed rolls her eyes. "Oh great – the Banshee Brigade is back."

The chanting, lead by Mrs. Grady, can be heard over the noise of the car.

"GO HOME, ANGEL OF DEATH – BEFORE THERE'S NO ONE LEFT! GO HOME, ANGEL OF DEATH – BEFORE THERE'S NO ONE LEFT!"

"Let's just pull into the garage," Sidney suggests.

Mrs. Reed pulls the car into the garage. Sidney helps her unpack groceries.

"The nerve of some people," Mrs. Reed is saying. "As though you were actually the killer himself."

Sidney shrugs. "They're afraid. So they turn to attacking me to cover their own fear. It's almost a self-defense mechanism."

"You learn that in therapy or something?"

"No. It's just that most of the people trying to kill me are afraid deep down too."

Mrs. Reed looks at her. "Wow, you really thought this through, haven't you?"

"Hey, you don't survive four massacres without learning a thing or two about human psychology."

Sidney finishes helping put the groceries away. "If you don't mind, I've had kind of a long day - do you think I could just go to bed?"

Mrs. Reed nods. "I understand. Don't worry, I can handle the trick-or-treaters." She gestures to a bowl full of candy near the door.

Sidney smiles. "Thanks, Mrs. Reed." She embraces the older woman, before she heads upstairs.

…

Sidney collapses into bed, fully dressed, too tired to get changed.

…

"Ooh, you make such a scary witch," Mrs. Reed says as she deposits some candy into a child's bag.

_Riiing! Riiing!_

The telephone starts ringing. Mrs. Reed closes the door after giving the candy to the trick-or-treaters. She then goes over to the phone, answering it.

"Hello?"

_"Hello?"_

"Who is this?"

_"Who's this?"_

"Umm, I think you have the wrong number."

_"Do I?"_

"Yea, I think you do. Don't worry, it happens. Happy Halloween!" She hangs up the phone with a click, then proceeds to the kitchen.

_Riiing! Riiing!_

Mrs. Reed sighs, turning around to answer the phone again.

"Hello?"

_"I'd like to talk to Sidney."_

"Sidney's asleep right now. May I take a message?"

There is a pause.

_"I'd like to talk to Sidney."_

"Honey, Sidney's asleep. But if you'd tell me your name, I'll make sure she gets back to you."

_"That's okay. I'll call back."_

With a _click_, the caller hangs up.

Mrs. Reed shrugs. "Weirdo." She then goes over to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of juice.

_Riing! Riing!_

Mrs. Reed sighs in exasperation. "Are you kidding me?" She answers the phone once again. "Hello?"

_"Is Sidney awake yet?"_

"It's only been a minute! Why don't you call back tomorrow?"

_"Because … I want to tell Sidney goodbye."_

"Goodbye?"

_"Yea. Because I won't be able to attend her FUNERAL!"_

"Is this a prank?"

_"Put Sidney on the phone!"_

"No, I think I'll call the cops instead."

_"But will they get here before I split you open like a melon?"_

Mrs. Reed backs up against the wall, her heart racing. "There are witnesses outside. You'll never get away with it!"

_"Really? Take a look outside."_

Mrs. Reed goes over to the front window, pushing the curtains aside. Outside it is empty, dark. The trick-or-treaters are done for the night. Mrs. Grady and her band of protestors have also packed up and left.

The streets are empty.

Mrs. Reed's eyes are wide with alarm.

_"Still so secure, Mrs. Reed? Still so ready to mouth off to me?"_

"Please … just leave us alone!"

_"You better make sure the back door is locked!"_

Mrs. Reed hangs up the phone, then sprints throughout the house, to the sliding-glass doors. She checks the locking mechanism – it's securely in place. She breathes a sigh of relief.

_Riing! Riing!_

Mrs. Reed answers the phone again, raising it shakily to her ear.

_"Put Sidney on the phone, please."_

Mrs. Reed is looking around, frantically.

_"You're really making this more difficult than it has to be. You're not the one I'm after. But because you're not doing what I tell you, I am seriously considering gutting you right now! So just put Sidney on the phone before I REALLY lose my temper!"_

"What do you want with her?"

_"Just put her on the phone! Or … maybe I should just leave Sidney alone and go after your precious … Kirby."_

"Leave her alone!"

_"Then put Sidney on the phone! Your call!"_

Sidney appears at the top of the steps. "I heard screaming. What's going on?"

Mrs. Reed points at the phone and mouths "the killer."

Sidney races down the stairs and takes the phone out of her hands. "Hello?"

_"Sidney, Sidney, Sidney. You're a difficult one to get a hold of these days."_

"What can I say? I don't do anymore public appearances. And autographs are ten dollars a pop."

_"Such a shame. But how is fame treating you these days?"_

"Oh you know … a lot fan mail … an occasional psycho tries to kill you. You know, the usual."

_"Hehe, still got a sense of humor after all these years, I see. But let's stop beating around the bush, Sidney. I want to play a game."_

Sidney yawns. "Oh boy, more horror questions. _So_ original."

_"Ooh, and sarcastic too. But I was thinking of a more … innovative game."_

"What do you have in mind?"

_"Two lives are counting on you right now, Sid."_

Sidney stops short. "What?"

_"Two people that I've kidnapped. I have them hostage right now. Come to us, and see if you can rescue them."_

"Who have you kidnapped? WHO?"

_"Uh-uh, not yet. Let's not spoil any surprises. But this game will test your character, Sidney. A bunch of old demons will come roiling up! Let's see how you handle it."_

"If you lay a finger on anybody -."

_"What if I lay all five, what then?"_

Sidney runs a hand through her hair. "What do you want me to do?"

_"Drive. Go to Stu Macher's old house. You'll find my hostages there – and maybe I'll be waiting in the wings. Who knows?"_

"And what's to stop me from calling the police?"

_"Nothing. In fact, I dare you to! Let's see what Woodsboro Police Department can make of me! Fifteen minutes, Sid. If you are even one second late, I won't hesitate to rip them up and look at what they had for dinner!"_

Sidney nods. "Fifteen minutes. Stu Macher's old house. I'll be there."

_"I'll be waiting."_

Sidney hangs up. She presses the phone into Mrs. Reed's hands. "I need you to call the police, tell them what's going on. Tell Dewey what's going on."

"But what about you?"

Sidney loads a handgun, hiding it in her pants leg. "Hey, I'm a professional Ghostface killer." She hugs Mrs. Reed. "Don't worry about me, okay. Everything will be fine, I promise. Oh, and can I borrow your car?"

…

Sidney pulls the car out of the driveway, nearly running over a lawn-gnome. She puts it in drive and takes off, the tires screeching against the pavement.

…

Dewey and Judy are doing their rounds. Dewey is on the phone with Mrs. Reed. "She went where? Okay, we're on it!" He hangs up. "Hurry Judy – the Macher house is twenty minutes from here! Step on the gas!" He then picks up his hand-held radio and begins screeching into it.

…

Mitchells and Heismith are still driving when Dewey's voice blares on the radio. "I need backup. Suspect has made contact! I need backup at the Macher house!"

Mitchells and Heismith look at each other. "Wow, finally!"

They put their car in drive, speeding away from the Rutherfeller Estate.

…

Kincaid bursts through the doors of his hotel room to find Turner sprawled out on the bed, passed out.

Kincaid grabs a cup of water and douses his partner.

"Aagh! What's the matter? You don't throw water on a guy when he's sleeping!"

"Get dressed," Kincaid says. "The suspect has struck."

"Struck?"

"He was never after the reality show after all – all along, Sidney's been his target. He's just made contact with her." He throws some pants at him. "Get dressed!"

…

Phil and Sandford are still sitting in their control room, observing their cast members as they make their way through the mansion.

Suddenly the television screens black out.

"Hey, what's going on?" Phil asks.

"Oh crap." Sandford begins playing around with the television screens. "I think the feed's been cut."

Phil rubs his eyes in frustration. "I knew this wouldn't go smoothly. Nothing ever does!"

"Just relax. The cameras are still operating – it's just that the feed to the televisions have been deactivated."

"Leaving us blind," Phil says. He gets up. "Stay here and try to see what you can do. I'll be in the basement, trying to rewire some of the cameras."

Sandford gives him a mock salute. "Will do, Captain."

Phil passes a window on his way out. "Hey, are those cops supposed to be leaving?"

Sandford shakes his head. "Not that I know of."

Phil gulps. "What is going on?"


	15. Chapter 15: Monica's Misfortune

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

…

Phil curses as he examines the circuit breaker in the basement. "Just my luck," he mutters. "Nothing can ever go my way."

He accidentally crosses the wrong wire, and it sparks. He lets out a yelp, withdrawing quickly. "Yup, the fates are sure smiling on me." His voice drips with sarcasm.

After fooling around with the wires for a couple of seconds, he slams the entire thing shut, scratching his head. "This is just not my day."

Muttering, he turns around, walking through the enormous, dark and dank basement. He stops when he hears footsteps.

He is not alone.

"Hello? Monica? Evan? Is that any of you guys?"

No response.

"Should've brought a flashlight." He shakes his head, continuing on.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a dark shape dart on the other side of the basement.

"Hello?"

No response. The Shape has disappeared.

"Maybe this place really _is_ haunted." His heart quickening, he begins moving a little faster.

The Shape now appears on the other side of the basement.

Phil picks up the pace, heading for the stairs. He reaches the foot of them, and spares on last glance back.

Nothing.

The Shape is gone.

He bounds up the steps.

…

Monica meanders around the kitchen, continuing her search for any paranormal activity. She sighs, as she looks at her reflection in the mirror.

"Wow, some big break this show turned out to be." She shakes her head, as she moves throughout the old parlor.

She flashes her light across the wooden floorboards, probing for any sign of ghosts.

It's quiet.

Almost too quiet.

Suddenly, a door creaks behind her, closing shut. She jumps at the sound, flashing her light on the now closed door.

"Okay, stay calm. Stay calm."

She takes out her ghost-hunting gear, ready for an encounter with the paranormal.

But all the scopes are negative. Whoever closed that door certainly wasn't supernatural. Just flesh and blood.

"Justin? Is that you? Evan? Kirby?"

No response.

She reaches her hand for the doorknob, grasps it, prepares to turn.

_VMMM. VMMM._

Her cell phone vibrates in her tight jeans. "Crap." She fumbles with it, finally managing to pull it out. The number is RESTRICTED.

"Hello?"

_"Heyy, how's my sexy girl?"_

It's Phil's voice. Monica grins slyly.

"Phil, you dirty boy. I knew you couldn't resist much longer."

_"It's taken me a while to admit it, Monica – but I still want you."_

She lets a sensual growl emanate from her throat. "Oh, I still want you too, baby."

_"Listen … I need you now. I can't wait any longer. Meet me in the kitchen. I'll disable the cameras … total privacy."_

"I like how you think. Give me one minute to get freshened up."

_"No. I want you – NOW!"_

She chuckles at the power she seems to hold over him. "One minute. I promise, it'll totally be worth it."

_"You have no idea what you do to me, baby. One minute. In the kitchen."_

"I'll be there, baby. Ready to give myself entirely to you. A fresh start – on our rekindled relationship."

_"Hurry!"_

Monica can barely contain her smirk as she hangs up the phone. She turns back to the mirror in the parlor, putting some more thick eyeliner on.

…

Phil enters the control room, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "Well, I couldn't get the damn circuit breaker fixed in the basement. It looks like we'll have to -." His voice trails off as he sees that he's alone in the control room.

Sandford is gone.

"Well now where did _he_ go?" Phil rubs his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "First Tyler, now him? And why do I keep talking to myself?"

He waves his fist to no one in particular.

…

Monica waits impatiently in the kitchen. She lies seductively upon the countertop in the center of the kitchen, waiting.

She waited until the coast was clear to come in. This was a big house, and it wasn't too likely that the other cast members would come barging in anytime soon. If they did, well – they could be jealous that Phil was firmly hers, once again.

She looks at the time on her I-phone impatiently. She scoffs, drumming her fingertips on the counter's surface.

_VMMM. VMMM. _Her phone vibrates.

"Finally. Hello?"

_"Hey baby, I'm in the kitchen."_

Monica slides off the countertop. "Really? I don't see you."

_"I'm hiding."_

"Well come on out!"

_"No. Let's have some fun, first!"_

"Mmm, sounds good. What did you have in mind?"

_"HOW ABOUT DECORATING THIS ENTIRE KITCHEN WITH YOUR GUTS!"_

Phil's voice suddenly changes to Ghostface's.

Monica rolls her eyes. "Nice, Phil. But I think this prank would be better suited for someone like that Shannon chick – she's easily scared. Or better yet, Kirby. You could have some real phone with that one."

_"Oh, don't worry, I'll get to them soon enough. But I wanted to start with you, Monica."_

"Oh, really? And why am I so special?"

_"Special? No, not special. You're just a convenient kill. Good practice for when I finally spill everyone else's guts."_

Monica yawns, clearly unimpressed. "Uh-huh. Look Phil, I'm here – ready to offer myself to you! Now cut the crap, get out here, and rekindle our love, damn it!"

_"This isn't Phil."_

"Oh, let me guess – Ghostface, right?"

_"Uh-huh."_

"And should I be scared now?"

_"If you had common sense."_

"Uh-huh. Listen, do you realize how many pranksters are out there calling people up and pretending to be Ghostface?"

_"How many?"_

"A lot. So sorry Phil, you'll have to do better than that to scare me."

_"The only difference between those pranksters and me is that I'm about to split you wide open. And I'm not Phil either."_

"Okay, then is this Kirby? Evan? Justin seems to be into all that electronic crap – is this you, Justin?"

_"None of the above."_

"Beth then?"

_"Beth can't handle touching a doorknob, what makes you think she can rip someone open?"_

"Shannon?"

_"Miss Prissyfingers? Afraid of her own shadow? Come on."_

"Yeah, well, this is getting quite old. Grow up or try scaring someone else!"

She hangs up, slamming her fist on the counter in frustration. Phil wouldn't be coming to meet her. They wouldn't be getting back together. It was all just a prank.

She could feel tears welling in her eyes. For her proud demeanor, she really did have feelings for Phil.

_VMMM! VMMM!_

"Are you freaking kidding me?" She answers the phone, well past her boiling point. "Listen to me, dipshit! I've just -."

_"NO, YOU LISTEN, YOU LITTLE PRETENTIOUS BITCH! YOU'RE JUST ASKING FOR YOUR SPINE TO BE RIPPED OUT THROUGH YOUR MOUTH!"_

Monica opens her mouth, then closes it, unsure of what to say. "I … I …"

_"You what? Still think this is a joke, Monica? By the way, haven't you noticed that Tyler has been conspicuously absent recently?"_

"Yea, but …"

_"But nothing. Hasn't it sunk in yet? Wake up, Monica – the nightmare is real!"_

"Where is Tyler?"

_"Probably floating out into the Pacific Ocean by now. Heh … but he got off lucky. I only smashed his brains out. But you – your death won't be as pleasant, I promise you!"_

Monica's proud demeanor is beginning to fall apart, revealing the frightened girl beneath. "Please … just leave me alone …"

_"But before we get to the bloody part, it's only customary to ask you a few questions …"_

"Please … don't do this …"

_"Come on, Monica. We can't break tradition. We have to follow the established rules."_

Monica is backing up against the counter. Her hand feels its way to the cutting board – her fingers wrap around the hilt of a butcher knife.

_"Monica, Monica, Monica … you appear so in control all the time … so cocky. Yet strip away your security, and what's left? You're just a scared little girl underneath all that makeup."_

"Please …"

_"I'll give you an easy question for the practice round. What movie series was based off of me?"_

"I … I … can't …"

_"Come on, Monica. You know this. It's so iconic!"_

"S-STAB. The STAB series."

_"Yes! Excellent, Monica. Perhaps you'll get lucky after all. But not likely. Now for the REAL question!"_

"Please … just leave me alone …" Her fingers tighten around the butcher knife behind her back.

_"Do you know how many victims ask me to leave them alone? And how many times do you think I've obliged? Now, on to the question. Which door am I behind?"_

Monica's eyes widen. "But … but … that's not a horror question!"

_"Duh. Now answer the question."_

Monica's eyes dart around. There's one door on the left, leading from the dining room. The door on the right leads from the drawing room.

"Just give me a hint!"

_"Listen, you have a fifty-fifty chance. You have a good shot one way or the other. So just choose before I get VERY angry!"_

"I need a second to think!"

_"Time is running out!"_

"I … I …"

_"It's very simple. Which door am I behind?"_

Monica thinks she sees a shadow move beneath the crack of the door on the right. She jumps up. "The right door! The right door!"

_"Oh … wrong answer!" _The killer hangs up.

Monica is backing away, terror plastered on her face. She looks at the left door, expecting it to burst open.

CRASH!

The pantry door is kicked open, and Ghostface BURSTS OUT! HE CHARGES AT MONICA, KNIFE RAISED!

Monica screams, rolling out of the way. Ghostface's knife slices downward, plunging into the counter. He yanks it out, spinning around.

Monica raises her butcher knife, attempting to plunge it into the killer's chest.

Ghostface grabs a metal poker from the nearby wood fireplace, CRACKING IT ON MONICA'S WRIST!

Monica screams, dropping the knife. Bone juts out from her wrist. Ghostface kicks her in the stomach, and she falls backwards onto her back. Her makeup is smeared with her tears as she cradles her wrist.

Ghostface towers over her.

She lashes out with her foot, connecting with the killer's stomach. Ghostface doubles over as Monica staggers to her feet.

"SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP ME!"

Ghostface recovers from the kick, and charges her again. He catches up, covering her mouth with his gloved hand before PLUNGING THE KNIFE INTO HER SHOULDER BLADE!

Monica is screaming bloody murder, but her screams for help are muffled by the killer's glove. Ghostface then grips her neck, SLAMMING HER HEAD ONTO THE COUNTER!

Monica is dazed. She opens her mouth to scream, but no noise comes out. The killer keeps her head pinned down onto the counter. He looks up and notices the electronic meat-slicer on the counter.

He looks down at Monica, and she seems to read his mind.

"No … please … no …"

Ghostface flicks the switch, and the meat-slicer whirrs to life. The spinning blade goes faster and faster.

With a heave, Ghostface begins directing Monica's head towards the spinning blade.

Monica struggles with all the strength she has left. She grips Ghostface's wrist with her good hand, but to no avail.

The blade is inching closer and closer to her cheek.

She struggles to scream, unable to wriggle her way free.

Ghostface is showing no mercy.

VZZZZZZZZZZ!

The blade makes contact with Monica's cheek, slicing through it like tissue. Her screams are gargled, as the meat-slicer literally shreds through her face.

Blood sprays in all directions, dripping down Ghostface's mask.

…


	16. Chapter 16: Sidney's Game

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

…

The Macher house stands, isolated and lonely in the darkened night. It remains abandoned – no one wanting to live in it after the murders.

A car pulls up out front. Kincaid and Turner exit, surveying the landscape.

"Looks like we got here before Sidney," comments Turner.

"Circle around the back," Kincaid says. "I'll cut around the front."

Turner nods, drawing his gun. "Keep your radio on."

The two partners go in separate directions, Turner heading for the back, Kincaid heading for the front.

As Kincaid circles the lawn, he hears the front door being slammed shut, and he rushes up to the porch. He slowly opens the door, gun drawn. He steps into the darkness.

The Macher house is eerily quiet, as Kincaid steps through the darkened hallway. He cautiously turns on the light – it sparks, and flickers.

He moves past the living room, towards the kitchen.

A DOOR SLAMS SHUT!

Kincaid spins around, his gun raised. He speaks into his walkie. "Turner, I'm going into the basement. Be ready to move in!"

"Roger."

Kincaid slowly creaks the basement door open. He stands at the top of the stairs. He flicks a switch. The light doesn't turn on.

Kincaid sighs, before beginning his descent downstairs. The basement is dark and dank. Kincaid walks through it, walking slowly, every little sound making him jump.

He can hear rustling in the corner. He moves towards the sound of the noise.

The music begins intensifying.

He draws closer and closer to a crawlspace.

He stands before it.

The audience is tense, waiting for something to pop out.

Kincaid takes out a small penlight, probing the darkness of the crawlspace.

THE LIGHT REVEALS A PERSON!

A group of people, actually. A group of teenagers.

The music dies down.

The teenagers try to protest.

"Get out of here," Kincaid yells. "Get out of here before I have all of you locked up!"

"Totally lame, man," one teen stoner says as the others follow him up the stairs.

Kincaid watches them leave. He shakes his head, turning around.

GHOSTFACE IS CHARGING AT HIM FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BASEMENT!

Kincaid has no time to react! The killer strikes him across the head with a wooden beam.

Kincaid immediately blacks out, falling to the ground. Ghostface grabs the unconscious Kincaid's ankles, dragging him further into the darkness of the basement.

…

A police squad car is speeding down the busy streets of Woodsboro, its sirens blaring.

Dewey is screaming into his radio. "I need backup immediately! All officers available!"

The tires screech as Judy steers the car down a left-hand turn.

…

Sidney pulls up outside the Macher house, and already those dark memories come roiling back.

Flashbacks of Billy and Stu, taunting her in the kitchen, stabbing each other before her very eyes. She shakes those memories away; steps out of the car.

She notices that another car is already parked. She recognizes it as Kincaid and Turner's car.

She makes sure that her gun is secure as she heads for the front porch. She notices a metal detector lying on the porch.

_VMMM. VMMM._

Her cell phone vibrates.

"Hello?"

_"You see the metal detector before you? You know what to do with it."_

Sidney bends down, running the metal detector all over her body. It makes noise as it passes over her hidden gun.

_"Toss it aside."_

Sidney takes the gun and tosses it into the bushes.

_"Do you think I'm stupid? The other one too."_

Sidney sighs, before tossing the second gun she had hidden on her ankle away.

_"Good. Now come inside. It's time to start our game."_

_ CLICK!_

The killer hangs the phone up, and Sidney steps inside. She tours the inside of the house, unsure exactly what to do. She passes a closet, and notices a large poster hanging on the closet door. The poster says – OPEN ME.

Shrugging, Sidney opens the door.

TURNER IS HANGING FROM A COAT RACK ON THE DOOR – HIS THROAT SLIT FROM EAR TO EAR!

Blood cascades down Turner's body, dripping onto the floor.

Sidney presses her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. Tears form in her eyes – another victim. She backs out of the hallway, into the kitchen.

The memories of Billy return again, full force, and she grips the counter edge to hold herself steady.

_VMMM. VMMM._

The cell phone vibrates again, and she shakily raises it to her ear. "H-hello?"

_"Come to the back door."_

Sidney follows his instruction. "Okay, I'm here. What do you want?"

_"Open the blinds."_

Sidney pulls on the cords, parting the blinds.

A LIGHT BLARES ON IN THE BACKYARD, AND TWO PEOPLE ARE GAGGED AND TIED TO CHAIRS!

Sidney holds her hand over her mouth.

Mrs. Grady is strapped to one chair – and to the other …

"Mark!"

Kincaid has regained consciousness, and he realizes where he is. He struggles against his bindings, to no avail.

"Leave them alone!" Sidney screeches into the phone.

_"Haha. Tell me Sidney, haven't you ever had the urge to just kill someone?"_

"Never!"

_"Really? Billy would disagree with you. As would Stu, Mrs. Loomis and Jill."_

"That was self-defense!"

_"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it. The rush – the thrill of it. Come on – you've never had the temptation to just – snap? There hasn't been just one person you've had the urge to just off?"_

"A lot of people have those urges. But that doesn't give anyone the right to act on them."

_"Well this game will test which kind of person you are. We'll see if you have the killing instinct. Perhaps you'll find that you and I have more in common than you thought."_

"We're nothing alike!"

_"Don't be too sure. Now, come outside."_

Sighing, Sidney opens the door, and exits to the backyard.

_"Okay – that's far enough."_

Sidney stops short – the two chairs only a couple yards away. She looks down to see a small metal box.

_"Open it."_

Sidney bends down, opening the box. Inside is a hunting knife.

_"Pick it up."_

She does so.

"What am I supposed to do?"

_"Use it."_

"Use it?"

_"You have two people in front of you. I want you to gut one of them right now!"_

"I'll do no such thing!"

_"Then my partner at that reality show will gut someone in their place. How about Kirby?"_

"Leave her alone!"

_"Then rip someone open!"_

"I can't!"

_"Sure you can. You see, you're a survivor. And all survivors have a natural killing instinct. So show it to me!"_

The knife is trembling in her hand.

_"We both know you want to do it, Sid. And it's not like these people are innocent victims. They've both hurt you in one way or another. Think of it as you giving them back the pain that they've dealt you."_

"No!"

_"Come on. Take your pick. Will it be Mrs. Grady? The woman who made your life a living hell over these past weeks? Harassing you, calling you names, turning the community against you."_

"She doesn't deserve to die for that!"

_"No? Then how about Mark over here? In a lot of ways, he's hurt you worse than Mrs. Grady, hasn't he?"_

"Please …"

_"He hurt you, didn't he Sid. Leaving you alone in your depression, cheating on you with that blond bimbo with the big tits. Doesn't that make your blood boil at all?"_

Sidney is struggling to regain her composure.

_"No response? Or is it that you still harbor some feelings for old Kincaid? Tell me Sid, do you love him?"_

"I-I …"

_"Enough talk! I'm starting to become impatient! Maybe I should tell my partner to spill Kirby Reed's innards!"_

"NOOO!"

_"Well someone has to die within the next minute! So hurry up and choose! Either Mrs. Grady, Mark Kincaid or Kirby Reed!"_

Sidney stood there, conflicted, confused, and horrified.

_"Very well, Sidney. Since you can't seem to decide, I'll decide for you. THEY ALL DIE!" _The killer hangs up.

"NOO!"

A figure darts in the distance on the other side of the backyard.

"Shit!" Sidney rushes forward, the knife still in her hand. Mrs. Grady is closer to her, and Sidney goes for her first.

Mrs. Grady closes her eyes, expecting Sidney to follow through and plunge the knife into her chest.

SHRRIIIPP!

Mrs. Grady opens her eyes, realizing that Sidney had sliced through her bindings. The older woman then rips off her gag, climbing out of the seat.

"Behind you!"

Sidney heeds Mrs. Grady's warning in time to roll out of the way of a plunging knife. Ghostface rises to his full height, waving the knife.

"Come and get me, you fucker!" Sidney raises the knife.

Ghostface tilts his head, then charges at her.

Sidney attempts to stab him. Ghostface grabs her wrist, twisting it. Sidney screams, dropping the knife. The killer forces her to the ground. He then straddles her, raising the knife high, ready to plunge it into her stomach.

CRACK!

The killer is knocked off of Sidney.

Sidney looks up to see Mrs. Grady holding a chair. She had grabbed it, and knocked the killer over the head with it.

Ghostface shoots up again!

Sidney is on her feet as well – Ghostface goes for her. She quickly grabs her fallen knife as the killer charges.

The two struggle.

Mrs. Grady waves the wooden chair around, trying to ward the killer off.

Sidney thrusts the knife straight for Ghostface's stomach.

SHHRAAACKKK!

The blade makes contact with a fleshy stomach.

Ghostface steps out of the way, unharmed.

Mrs. Grady doubles over, blood spreading across her stomach.

In the confusion, Sidney had accidentally stabbed her instead!

Horror crosses Sidney's face. "No! I didn't mean …!"

Blood pours out of Mrs. Grady's mouth – and she falls sideways.

Dead.

Sidney is on the verge of tears. She had never wanted this.

Her eyes fall on Kincaid – still strapped to the chair. His eyes are widened. He tries to shout out a warning, but Sidney's mind is still reeling from the shock of what she's done.

SLICE!

Sidney lets out a scream as the killer's knife PIERCES INTO HER OWN STOMACH!

Kincaid screams against his bindings.

Sidney's vision is swimming. She holds the spot on her stomach where she took the blow – before falling over.

She heaves on the ground, the pain unbearable. She curls into a fetal position, crying.

She feels something sticky on her hand.

She had fallen into a pool of Mrs. Grady's blood.

As Sidney twitches and moans on the ground, Ghostface turns and looks at Kincaid, who is struggling all the more. He begins advancing on the helpless cop.

Police sirens screech in the night air. They can hear someone screaming.

"Sidney! Sidney!"

When Kincaid looks back up, the killer is gone – vanished into the night.

Dewey and Judy rush onto the scene. Dewey drops to Sidney's side. "Sidney! Sidney! Stay with me!" He looks up to Judy. "Call and ambulance! And attend to Mark!"

Judy nods. "Right, sir." She cuts Kincaid's bindings, and he pushes Judy out of the way as he rushes to Sidney's side.

"Sidney! I'm here!"

Sidney is drifting in and out of consciousness. "I did it … I didn't mean … I killed her …"

"Sidney, I'm here!" Kincaid struggles to conceal his emotions as his hand grips Sidney's. "Stay with us!" He turns to Dewey. "Where's the damn ambulance?"

Mitchells and Heismith arrive on the scene. The both of them look on in horror at what just happened. "Damn …"

Kincaid's voice is breaking under the strain. "Please Sidney … stay with me!"

Dewey looks at him. "You need medical attention, Mark!"

Sidney's hand grabs Kincaid's shirt. "Don't leave me …"

"No. Not ever again."

The camera pans out as the ambulance sirens blare throughout the night…

…

Judy pulls her squad car up to the Riley residence. She rushes up to the porch, and rings the doorbell.

Gale's voice rings from the inside.

"I'm all out of Halloween candy!"

"It's me – Judy!"

"Hicks?"

The door opens, and a tired-looking Gale stands in the doorway. "What do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

"Where's Dewey?"

"At the hospital."

Fear crosses Gale's usually strong features. "What?"

"He's fine. But Sidney …"

"What? What happened to Sidney?"

Judy bites her lip. "She's been stabbed … again."

"Is she okay?"

"She's in the ICU. She's lost a lot of blood."

"She'll pull through," Gale says. "She always does. She has to."

"Listen, that's not all. I need your help."

Gale is incredulous. "_You_ need _my _help?"

"I've been reviewing this whole snuff film case over and over … and something finally just clicked."

"What?"

"I found something very interesting – something everybody else overlooked."

"What is it? Out with it!"

Judy smiles. "I'll tell you on the way …"

"On the way …?"

"How'd you like to be my temporary partner, Gale?"

"P-partner?"

"Put aside our differences – work together to catch a killer!"

Gale ponders it for a couple of seconds. "Give me a second to get dressed." She turns, but then stops short. "What about my house arrest?"

"Technically, you'll be with a cop. It won't be a violation, I promise."

Gale eyes her. "Good point. I'll be right back. And Hicks – you better be on to something here."

"I am." She fist-pumps as Gale goes back inside. "Yea! Team Judy and Gale!"

Gale rolls her eyes.


	17. Chapter 17: House of Horrors

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

…

Kirby is enjoying herself way too much in the haunted mansion. She wanders around, using her ghost-hunting gear to survey the darkened house.

"Oooh," she says out loud, jokingly. "Come on ghosties and ghoulies – come find Kirby."

She walks past a bathroom door -.

A HAND SHOOTS OUT, GRABS HER AND PULLS HER IN!

With a scream of fright, Kirby whacks whoever it is about the head.

"Yow!"

The guy slumps to the ground, holding his head. It's Evan.

"Didn't your mom ever tell you not to go grabbing at people in the dark?"

Evan looks up at her, rubbing his sore head. There is a grim look on his face that Kirby recognizes – having seen it on Sidney's face last year.

Evan grips her by the shoulders and speaks slowly - forcefully. "Kirby … we have to get out of this house. Right now!"

Kirby is becoming alarmed. "Why? What's happened?"

"I found Monica in the kitchen …"

"M-Monica?"

"She's dead, Kirby."

"What happened?"

"Half her face has been completely shredded off."

Kirby looks revolted. "B-but how … ? The officers outside …"

Evan shakes his head. "I didn't see them outside anymore. I think they left."

Kirby is running her hand through her hair. "What about the others?"

"I don't know. All I know is, we have to go – now!"

"Not without the others!"

Evan smacks his forehead. "And supposing that one of them is the killer?"

"I'm counting on it."

"You're something else, you know that?"

"To know me is to love me," she jokes.

Evan looks around. "Okay, stay with me. And let's get rid of this ghost-hunting gear." The two of them discard their gear. Evan slowly looks out the door, before motioning for Kirby to follow.

They move out into the hall -.

SOMEONE JUMPS OUT OF THE SHADOWS!

Evan and Kirby scream!

The third person screams!

They all continue screaming!

"You guys scared me," Phil says, wiping the sweat off his face.

Evan is incredulous. "_We _scared _you_?"

"What are you doing lurking around?" Kirby asks suspiciously.

"The live feed upstairs went dead. I'm looking for a way to restore power. And what are you guys doing here? And where's your gear?"

Evan motions for Phil to stop talking. "Phil, listen to me very carefully. We have to get everyone out of here – right now!"

"Leave? But the show …"

"Forget the show!" Kirby screeches. "Listen, there's a killer in the house!"

"A killer? In the house? Come on, Kirby. I think all this creepy stuff is beginning to get to you."

Evan shakes his head. "No, she's fine. I saw it with my own eyes. Monica is … is …"

"Dead," Kirby finishes.

"Wait, what?" Phil is reeling from this news. He runs a hand through his hair. "Are you sure?"

"Her face was sawed right through with a meat slicer."

"No … it can't be …" Tears begin forming in Phil's eyes.

"Are okay?" asks Kirby.

"Oh, I'm fine. I just find out my ex-girlfriend's been mutilated, that's all."

"I thought you didn't like her?" Evan says.

"Of course I didn't! But … look, no matter how crazy someone is … you can't just be with them for a year and not develop feelings …"

"He's got a point," Kirby replies. "I mean, I didn't like the bitch, but I never wanted her to _die_!"

"Maybe you _did_," Phil says coyly.

Kirby looks affronted. "What are you saying – that _I_ killer her?"

"It's possible! For all we know, you might have been driven mad by the massacre last year!"

"Well how do we know _you're _not the killer?" Evan asks.

"Me – murder Monica?"

"Why not?" says Kirby. "You're the one who brought us here, after all."

Phil throws his hands up into the air. "Oh, this is just _great_! First my show blows up, then my girlfriend's dead, and now I'm accused of being a psychotic!"

Evan shakes his head. "Look, the killer could be anyone. The best thing to do is to stick together and find the others."

Kirby rubs her chin in thought. "Didn't you mention that Tyler was missing?"

Phil nods.

"Is he still missing?"

"Without a trace …"

"What if Tyler is the killer?"

Phil shakes his head. "Tyler? But … look, I've known Tyler for two years. He would never …"

"I knew Jill Roberts and Charlie Walker for four years. What's that prove?"

"I suppose you're right. But he's not the only one. Sandford's been missing for a half hour now."

Evan looks right at them. "A half hour he could have used to slice and dice."

"How long have you known Sandford?" Kirby inquires.

"Only a month," Phil replies. "He's a good paranormal investigator and computer technician."

"Which means he could have cut the camera feed upstairs."

Phil stands there, confused. "You guys … you really think it's Sandford?"

"At this point, he's a prime suspect."

Phil's head is in his hands. "And I'm the one who hired him in the first place!"

"Look, standing around talking isn't going to solve anything," Evan says. "We have to find the others."

Phil stands upright, looking at them. "I saw Justin around here a couple minutes ago. I have no idea where Beth and Shannon are."

"Then we get Justin first," Kirby says.

Phil stands opposite them, looking around the darkened hallway. "I think the quickest way would be -."

Kirby and Evan begin screaming. "Phil! BEHIND YOU!"

Phil cocks his head. "What?"

GHOSTFACE STABS PHIL MULTIPLE TIMES IN THE BACK!

Phil gags on his own blood, which runs freely from his mouth. He struggles to stand, the blood pooling around his feet.

Kirby and Evan can only watch in horror as Ghostface delivers one final stab – RIGHT INTO PHIL'S SPINE!

Phil stiffens, looking directly at them. "Run …" he breathes, before he collapses on the ground. Dead.

Ghostface looks up at Kirby and Evan.

"Time to go!" Evan shouts.

He and Kirby take off running in the opposite direction.

Ghostface steps over Phil's corpse and gives chase.

The two duck into a narrow hallway, rushing downstairs to the second level. They scoot into a nearby bedroom. Kirby and Evan struggle to catch their breath.

"Is … he still … behind us …?"

Evan shakes his head, peering down the hallway.

"No sign of him."

"He could be anywhere…"

Evan nods. "This is not good …" He locks the bedroom door, pushing a desk in front of it.

"Why?"

Evan looks at her. "Why what?"

"Why does this keep happening? It's like one murder spree perpetuates another in a never ending circle."

"Our lives are like movies, Kirby. You just can't pick your genre."

Kirby looks up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think this will ever end. At least not yet." He keeps pacing by the door, checking it occasionally.

"I don't follow."

"Look, I know a lot about the horror genre. I learned from the master."

"Master?"

Evan sighs. "When I was five or six, my father abandoned me. I didn't have any friends or anyone to look up to, so my mother signed me up for the Big Brothers, Big Sisters of America Program. I was assigned to a certain goofball named Randy Meeks. Maybe you've heard of him?"

Kirby stands up. "So wait … you learned about horror movies from Randy … _the _Randy?"

"Taught me everything I know. And by the looks of things … this isn't the end. Not yet."

"So where are we in all this?" asks Kirby. "Is this a remake or something?"

"No, I don't think so. We're past the remake theme. We've just entered a place where few horror movies get to – the franchise."

"The franchise … I see. I should've known."

"At this point, things get legendary. Halloween, Saw, Friday the 13th … and now us. As the franchise progresses, the plots get more complicated, convoluted – heck, downright crazy. See, the remake tries to go back to what made the original great. But when we get to the franchise part … well, they utilize new plot mechanics."

Kirby nods her head. "As in putting us on a reality show."

"Just like Halloween: Resurrection. Only this time, we don't have Busta Rhymes doing karate."

"Chuck Norris would be nice, though."

Evan laughs.

"Do you think the coast is clear?" asks Kirby.

"Only one way to find out." Evan clears the desk out of the way, before slowly opening the door. He sticks his head through the crack.

The hallways are dark, empty.

He motions for Kirby to follow. "This way." The slowly exit the room, moving throughout the darkened halls.

They turn a corner.

SOMETHING POPS OUT OF THE DARKNESS, STARTLING THEM YET AGAIN!

"Sorry guys," Shannon says sheepishly.

Kirby is holding her chest. "Please … no more. I can't take it…"

SOMETHING POPS OUT YET AGAIN!

Kirby is holding onto the wall for support.

Beth is looking around. "Sorry," she says in her nasal voice. "Didn't mean to frighten anyone." She takes a puff from her inhaler.

Kirby regains her composure. "Okay, everyone listen. We have to leave – right now!"

"Why?" asks Shannon. "We're going to be on television!"

"We sure will," replies Kirby. "On the ten o'clock news! I can hear the reports now." She puts on a fake newscaster voice. "Six college students were found brutally murdered on the set of a formerly upcoming reality show."

"What are you talking about?" asks Beth.

"Someone killed Monica!"

Beth fidgets.

Shannon is horrified. "What? How do you know?"

"I saw her," Evan replies.

Shannon shakes her head. "I can't believe it…"

"Believe it, babe," Evan says. "We also saw Phil get stabbed. The killer then chased us down here."

Shannon is beginning to hyperventilate. "Oh god, oh god."

"What if the killer is one of us?" says Beth.

Shannon is beginning to panic. "Where's Justin?"

Evan is rubbing his sinuses. "Oh boy …"

_Riing! Riing!_

"Whose ringtone is that?" asks Beth.

Kirby pulls out her phone. The number is RESTRICTED.

"Answer it," Evan says.

"Let me put it on speakerphone." She then answers it. "Hello?"

_"Ah, now I have almost everyone together. Poor Monica and Phil, huh? It's a shame they had to go down like that, but hey – that's showbiz. Some people make it, while some people have their parts cut."_

"You're a sicko," responds Kirby. "Why are you doing this?"

_"Because I'm a twisted fuck, that's why. There's no explanation for psycho. But don't worry. There are cameras everywhere. All of your deaths will be filmed – immortalized. You should thank Jill – she's the one who inspired me to film the murders. And unlike her snuff films, mine will be seen worldwide!"_

"Is that what this is about? You want fame? Attention?"

_"Kirby, Kirby, Kirby. This isn't about fame or anything like that. But … well, you'll find out soon enough."_

"Then why not just get on with it?"

_"Kirby, you're supposed to be a horror expert. You know that you have to build up tension before the big reveal. Otherwise the climax isn't so satisfying. Oh, and by the way, Sidney's in the hospital."_

"W-what?"

_"Yea. I sliced her up about a half ago."_

"But how? You just attacked us!"

_"Ah, so my partner's already on the move. Good. And with those cops hunting after me, it leaves him free to slice and dice!"_

"Your partner?"

_"Isn't it exciting? He or she could be anyone. Maybe even … your closest friend …" _Kirby looks at Shannon, who appears horrified.

_"Come on, Kirby. You were already betrayed by one best friend. Can you really trust Shannon after Jill?"_

Shannon is desperately shaking her head, her body trembling. "Kirby, don't listen to him! He's … he's trying to turn us against each other!"

"But he has a point," Kirby says, eyes narrowed. "Jill Roberts was supposed to be my best friend. And she was trying to kill me the whole time. And you … you were the one who persuaded me to come on this show in the first place …"

"Kirby, please! You know me better than that!"

"Do I? I thought I knew Jill better than that too!"

_"Haha, yes … dance my puppets, dance. You should really work on your trust issues, Kirby. Will you ever be able to have a normal friendship with someone? I know Sidney won't be able to have a normal relationship with a guy since Billy. Don't you love how these killings really fuck up people's social skills?"_

Shannon is nearly in tears. "Kirby … please …"

_"Oh, and one more thing – you guys should really start considering running."_

With a _CLICK _the killer hangs up.

GHOSTFACE IS CHARGING DOWN THE HALL DIRECTLY BEHIND THEM!

"Shit!" The scream tears from Evan's throat. "Run!"

The group runs down the hallway, coming to a fork. Kirby and Beth go right, while Evan and Shannon go left.

Ghostface follows after Evan and Shannon.

"Here!"

Evan leads Shannon to a bedroom, and he quickly locks the door behind them.

THE DOOR BEGINS SHAKING AS THE KILLER TRIES BREAKING IT DOWN!

"Help me get this bureau in front of the door!" Evan and Shannon push the large wooden bureau in front of the door.

"What do we do?" Shannon is panicking. "We're trapped!"

Evan notices a small closet; he wrenches the folding doors open. "Hide in here! I have an idea!"

"I'm not hiding in a closet! Not after Kirby made me watch the original Halloween!"

"Just trust me!"

The door's hinges are already breaking off.

Shannon quickly enters the closet, sealing the doors shut. She ties the two doorknobs together with her hair scrunchie.

Evan rolls underneath the bed.

CRASH!

The door is completely broken off its hinges. With a mighty kick, Ghostface knocks the bureau out of his way.

In the closet, Shannon holds a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She can hear the killer's footsteps. Beneath the crack of the closet doors, she can see his shadow.

The killer tries to pull the door open, and Shannon retreats further into a corner, making herself as small as possible.

The doors begin shaking, as the killer tries to rip them open.

The shaking becomes more furious and violent.

Then it stops.

Shannon waits with baited breath.

All is silent.

THE EDGE OF A KNIFE PENETRATES THE WOODEN DOOR!

Shannon gasps, struggling to keep from screaming as the killer STABS AT THE DOOR AGAIN AND AGAIN! He is literally HACKING HIS WAY THROUGH!

The wooden doors splinter, before the killer tears his way in.

Shannon screams as the killer's masked face pokes through.

With a final kick at the wood, Ghostface is inside the closet.

KNIFE RAISED!

CRASH!

Evan smashes a lamp on the killer's head, and Ghostface crumples.

"Come on!" Evan grabs Shannon's arm, and pulls her out of the closet. They rush out of the room.

Ghostface leaps to his feet, giving chase.

…

"I think we lost him," Beth says as she and Kirby struggle to regain their breath.

Kirby says a quiet prayer. "Please God … let them get away."

"It's Justin," Beth says suddenly. "It's got to be. There's no one else!"

Kirby nods. "I think … you may be right. He's into all that computer game crap. I'll bet you anything he cut the camera feed off upstairs. And … he probably is tech-savvy enough to use hidden cameras. Film the murders."

They look at each other, trying to take it all in.

Finally, Kirby motions for Beth to follow. "We should get moving."

"Wait," Beth says. "There's a quick way downstairs. I found it earlier this morning." She leads Kirby to a doorway. "This was a staircase leading to the servant's quarters."

Beth stops before she reaches the door.

"What are you waiting for?"

"I'm not touching that doorknob."

Rolling her eyes, Kirby grasps the handle and the door swings open with a groan.

JUSTIN IS STANDING THERE, FURY IN HIS EYES!

Kirby and Beth shriek, as they both back away.

Justin takes a couple menacing steps towards them.

He stops as his face contorts with pain.

"Freaking … noobs …"

He collapses face-forward on the floor – A KNIFE LODGED RIGHT IN HIS BACK!

…


	18. Chapter 18: Team Judy and Gale

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

…

Judy's car zooms down the darkened streets outside of Woodsboro. Gale is in the passenger seat next to her, getting more and more excited.

"Alright, I can't wait anymore, Hicks! What's going on? What did you find out?"

Judy grins. "It happened after you helped catch that Ernest Raw guy. Good job on that, by the way."

Gale smirks.

Judy continues on. "We investigated his house further, and found stacks of other snuff films dating back a good five or six years ago. Not to mention stacks of porn – including child porn."

Gale shudders. "Sick…"

"Sure is. The thing is, the styles, the techniques … they were all so similar. It had to be filmed by the same people."

"Okay … the snuff ring …"

"Exactly. Then something else was nagging at me. Ernest said that a corporation or something was involved. The Snows also told Kincaid and Turner that their daughter Evelyn was molested on camera by a modeling agency. They were paid hush money by a corporation that ran the agency."

"So you think there's truth to it?"

Judy nods. "It can't be a coincidence. Then it struck me … what do all these situations have in common?"

Gale shrugs. "Violence against women?"

"Well that … but the common thread is _film_! What if this 'corporation' wasn't just any big business? What if it was actually a film studio? What if it was the same studio that was putting on Shocktoberfest Live? What if it was Howards' Studios?"

Gale's eyes widened. "Hicks … I really think you're on to something here. Wow, I never realized there was actually a brain in that big empty head of yours. But why do you need me?"

"Because … you're like the expert at sleuthing."

"Alright, Hicks. What's your game-plan?"

"We get in … we dig around for some evidence."

"I like it. Alright let's do it! But Howards' Studios is a good forty-five minutes away!"

Judy chuckles. "Oh Gale, hasn't marriage to Dewey taught you anything? We cops can … _bend_ … the rules occasionally." Judy turns on her police sirens, and then steps on the gas, speeding down the suburban road.

…

Dewey and Kincaid are in a hospital room. Sidney has a series of plugs and tubes inserted into her body. Kincaid is sitting right next to her bed, while Dewey is pacing restlessly.

"Hey," Dewey finally says. "I'm sorry about your partner."

Kincaid nods. "Turner was a good guy. He didn't … he didn't deserve to die like that."

"I know how you feel. We lose good men on the force all the time. Hoss and Perkins were exceptionally good cops."

"Do you think she'll wake up?" asks Kincaid, looking down at Sidney's unconscious form.

"The damage isn't as bad this time around. And unless Jill Roberts decides to come back and finish her again, I think she'll make a full recovery."

Kincaid nods. "I hope so…"

Dewey is smiling a little bit. "You still love her, don't you?"

Kincaid begins sputtering. "I … wait … I …"

"Don't worry," Dewey says. "If you want, I can leave you alone with her."

"No, that's fine. You can stay."

Dewey's radio suddenly blares to life. He pulls out his walkie. "Hold on, calm down. What happened, Mitchells?"

Mitchells' voice comes through the other end.

Dewey's eyes widen. "Judy did _what_? She's with _WHO_?"

Dewey silences his walkie, before turning to Kincaid. "Looks like you get your alone time with Sidney after all. Hicks just did the dumbest thing of her career – and with the devil incarnate."

"I understand. But who's the devil incarnate?"

Dewey gulps. "My wife. Don't tell her I said that …"

Kincaid laughs. "Alright, but you owe me for my silence."

They grin as Dewey leaves the hospital room.

Kincaid looks down at Sidney's unconscious form, before gently taking her hand in his.

…

"This is private property. You can't just come traipsing in here at all hours of the night – especially after we've closed!"

Judy and Gale are standing at the entranceway to Howards' Studios, being blocked by a very annoying security guard.

"You don't understand," Gale says. "This is a matter of life and death!"

"I don't care if you unleashed Cthulhu on the world and the only way to stop it was inside. You're not going in!"

Judy flashes her badge.

"You think I'm impressed by that? You're a Woodsboro cop – you have no jurisdiction here! Especially without a warrant!"

POW!

In a lightning fast move, Gale punches the security guard out. He stands there for a moment, dazed, before collapsing.

Judy is shocked. "Gale! You can't just go around punching people!"

Gale bends down and takes the ring of keys of the guard's belt. "Hey, it's getting us inside, isn't it? And you're not going to arrest me for that, are you?"

"Well, no … But how'd you learn to punch like that?"

"Sidney. She may look small, but she really should have taken up boxing as a profession." Gale tries a number of keys, before the right one unlocks the front door.

"After you," Gale says.

The two enter the main lobby of the building.

"This place sure is creepy at night," Judy says.

Gale takes out her cell phone, using the light from the screen to read the map hanging on the wall. "We need the big guy's office first. Ah, here it is. Mr. Howards' office – top floor."

The two make their way towards the elevators. The doors part open, and the pair enter. Judy presses the button for the top floor, and up they go.

Judy is humming along with the elevator music.

Gale rubs her head, getting a headache.

The doors finally open (to Gale's great relief) and the duo exit. Gale looks at the line of offices, looking for the right one.

"Here it is! Now which one is the right key?"

She jingles the key ring, and begins inserting a number of random keys into the keyhole.

_CLICK!_

The right key manages to finally turn, and the door parts open. Gale flicks on the light.

"Okay, we need to start looking around his office for any clues or anything," Judy says.

The deputy begins opening and closing drawers, while Gale examines the desk. "Bingo!" She opens up the laptop on the desk and begins typing.

"You know how to use that?" Judy asks.

"Oh please, I'm an expert hacker. How do you think I was able to uncover the governor's affair with that Russian spy eight years ago?" She hits ENTER. "And we're in."

Judy stands over her shoulder, watching. "Do you think you'll find anything?"

"Listen, if this guy _is_ involved in the snuff film ring, the evidence could be found all over this computer."

"But why would he leave it lying around on his laptop?"

"He wouldn't. He would try to delete any evidence of it. The problem for him is, deleting things off your computer doesn't get rid of it permanently. Traces remain…"

"Well this is getting confusing." Judy holds her head.

"Shush up for a minute. I've got to bypass the firewall."

There is a minute or so spent with Gale just typing and clicking.

"And here it is. Old emails. Checks, credit card numbers." Gale is watching the screen intently, taking all the information in. "Man, this guy was in deeper than I thought!"

"What do you mean?" inquires Judy.

"This Howards guy – he's not just involved in the snuff film ring – he's its leader!"

Judy grips the edge of the desk until her knuckles turn white. "So what does that mean?"

"It means that if we find this Mr. Howards, we find the killer."

There is a beep from the laptop.

"An IM," Gale says. She opens it up to read it.

_Do you like horror movies, Gale?_

"Shit."

"Who is it?" asks Judy.

"I think it's the killer!"

She types back. _No. They all get repetitive after awhile. Stale and boring._

Another IM. _That's a shame. Because I'm trying to make a unique horror movie – starring Gale Weathers-Riley and Judy Hicks! The location – the office of Howards' Studios!_

Gale gulps as she types back. _You're full of crap. We're not at Howards' Studios._

_Don't lie to me, Gale. I can see you. And your flying guts will make a fine addition to my next film._

"Crap." Gale stands up, stepping away from the computer. She quickly SAVES all of the information on a USB device. "Let's go, Hicks!"

The two slowly exit the office, entering the darkened hallway. Judy has her gun drawn. The two of them look around for any sign of movement.

The elevator is at the other side of the hallway.

They slowly move towards it. Some of the lights flicker on and off.

A FIGURE DARTS ACROSS THE HALLWAY INTO ANOTHER ROOM!

Judy gulps, gun raised.

The soundtrack is intensifying.

They slowly back down the hall.

THE FIGURE DARTS OUT OF THE OFFICE – STRAIGHT FOR THEM!

"Aaah!" Judy lets out a bellow, and the barrel of her gun explodes!

The figure stops short, and then drops to the ground.

"Did I get him?"

"I'm not sure …"

Judy takes out her flashlight, illuminating the figure.

It's a security guard.

Horror crosses Judy's face. "Oh no … What have I done?"

Blood pools around the guard's limp form.

"I killed an innocent man!"

"Hicks, don't start freaking out on me now!"

"How … how can I live with this …" Judy's face is crazed, and she lifts the barrel of the gun to her head.

"Judy … put the gun down … Damn it, put it down!"

Judy never gets the chance to pull the trigger.

GHOSTFACE APPEARS BEHIND HER AND STABS HER IN THE SHOULDER!

Judy lets out a grunt as the blade penetrates her upper shoulder. The gun drops to the ground, followed by her. The killer kicks the gun away, and then turns towards Gale.

"Shit!" Gale runs down the hall towards the elevator. She reaches it, and begins hitting the DOWN BUTTON.

Ghostface is barreling down the hall after her.

The elevator is ascending from below. Three more flights to go.

Ghostface is getting nearer.

The elevator is taking too long.

Two more flights to go.

Ghostface is upon her.

"Screw this!"

Gale runs away from the elevator, heading for the stairs. The blade of the killer's knife strikes the elevator doors where Gale had been standing a second ago.

Gale bursts through the doors to the stairwell, descending it rapidly.

Above, Ghostface appears at the top of the stairs.

Gale races down the flights of stairs, not even bothering to look back. As she comes to the second floor, she sees a janitor mopping the stairs.

"Help me!" Her cries echo throughout the stairwell.

The janitor doesn't look back. He's listening to his I-pod.

Gale slips on a wet stair, and tumbles down at the janitor's feet.

The janitor looks down, and removes his earphones. "Are you okay?"

He helps Gale to her feet.

GHOSTFACE STABS THE JANITOR DIRECTLY IN THE FOREHEAD!

Gale backs away, out the door into the second floor hallway.

Ghostface is on her tail.

She tries a series of doors to see if they're unlocked. One after another – locked. Denying her any escape.

She staggers over to another door, desperately trying to turn the knob. The hallway is becoming a dead-end.

Ghostface is walking towards her, tilting his masked head.

Gale backs away, as the killer slowly raises his knife.

WHACK!

The killer crumples, and slumps to the ground.

Gale looks up to see Judy standing there, holding a wooden beam.

"Thanks Hicks. How's your shoulder by the way?"

Judy gently caresses her bleeding shoulder. "Nothing a short trip to the hospital won't cure."

Below, they can hear someone screaming.

"Gale! Deputy Hicks!"

Judy and Gale look at each other. "Dewey," they say.

They turn their backs on the unconscious killer, and rush towards the stairwell. "Dewey! We're up here!"

Dewey rushes up the stairs.

"Hicks! You're wounded! And Gale …" He kisses his wife. Then – "Are you crazy? You could have been killed!"

"Yea … well I just blew this case wide open, Dewey!" She presents him with the USB drive. "All the evidence is on there. And the killer … well, we incapacitated him."

"What? Where?"

"Behind us."

The trio moves down the hall towards the killer's limp form. Dewey holds his gun out, pointed at the killer's head.

"I want to see …" Gale says. "I want to know …"

She kneels down, reaching for the killer's mask.

GHOSTFACE SPRINGS TO LIFE!

Gale punches him back out.

There is a tense electricity in the air.

Gale reaches down, grasps the mask, pulling it free to reveal … Mr. Howards.


	19. Chapter 19: Swimming Pool Gameshow

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

…

Sidney slowly opens her eyes, her mouth contorted in an open scream. Kincaid is there, hands on her shoulders.

"Sidney! It's okay! It's okay! You're safe now!"

Sidney's pupils dilate as she looks around. She slowly opens her mouth to speak. "W-where am I?"

"You're in the hospital. You're okay…"

"The killer …!"

"Dewey's on it."

Sidney lies back into her pillows as Kincaid fluffs them for her. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

Sidney doesn't seem to hear him. In fact, she seems to be lost in her own little world. "What have I done …?"

"You haven't done anything, Sid."

"Mrs. Grady … I killed her …"

"No! It was an accident, Sid! There was no way -!"

"I killed her."

"You didn't mean to! There was nothing you could have done, she just got in the way …"

There is a moment's silence.

"I liked it."

Kincaid cocks his head. "What's that?"

"For a minute … I felt such a rush …"

"You're delirious, Sid. Here, let me get you some water."

Her eyes brim with tears. "I liked it. I'm horrified at myself."

"Look, you've had a rough night, Sid. You just need to relax."

"Does that make me a horrible person?"

Kincaid doesn't respond immediately. "I don't know, Sidney."

"Can God ever forgive me?"

Kincaid looks down at her solemnly. "Everyone needs forgiveness, Sidney. Whether God will forgive any of us … well, that's between us and Him."

Sidney eases back into her pillows, her eyes still swimming with tears. "I don't know if I can ever forgive myself."

Kincaid stands there, not knowing what to say.

…

Mr. Howards sits at a table in an interrogation room at the Woodsboro Police Dept. He is still dressed in his black robe, and his gloved hands are handcuffed.

Judy stands in the corner with Gale, while Dewey sits down across from him.

"So what's your motive?" Dewey asks. "All you sickos have one, so let's hear it."

"I didn't kill anybody," Mr. Howards responds angrily.

Dewey raises his eyebrows. "Really? So you just happen to be prancing around your office in a Ghostface costume. You just chased Gale and Judy around for the fun of it?"

"It's not like that …"

"Really? Gale saw you – firsthand – kill that janitor. Explain that!"

"It wasn't me!"

"Come on! You were caught red-handed. Just fess up!"

"I'm telling the truth!"

Dewey slams a thick manila envelope on the desk. "We have a large file on you. We've connected you to the snuff film ring."

Mr. Howards' face becomes darker. "How'd you …?"

"Gale's an expert sleuther."

Mr. Howards grinds his teeth. "I … I …"

"There's no getting out of this. We know you're the leader of the snuff film ring. The evidence is irrefutable."

Mr. Howards glares at him defiantly. "Look, I don't know what evidence you _think _you have – but I never killed anybody! I was on my way home from work this evening when I was struck from behind. When I woke up, I was lying on the floor of a hallway in my building dressed like this."

"Ah, so someone else put you in the Ghostface costume and left you there for us to find."

"I know it sounds crazy – but if you'd just listen to me -."

Dewey stands up. "I'm done listening. You can stay in your cell until the feds come to take you to a penitentiary. Then you can stand trial – for both your role in the snuff ring and the Ghostface murders."

Mr. Howards glares at him evilly. "I want a lawyer!"

"You'll get one, don't you worry."

…

Dewey exits the interrogation room as Officers Mitchells and Heismith drag Mr. Howards away and lock him in a cell.

Gale is right beside him. "This isn't over, Dewey."

"Of course it is. We caught the bastard."

"I … I think there's more to this than meets the eye."

"What do you – don't tell me you believe him?"

"Catching the killer has never been this easy, Dewey. What if he is telling the truth? What if he's being framed?"

"Gale, do you realize how you sound?"

"You're going to tell me you're not suspicious? You're going to tell me this doesn't seem like Cotton Weary all over again?"

Dewey rubs his head. "What do you want from me, Gale?"

"To keep your eyes open! Even if Howards is the killer – there's usually two of them!"

Dewey widens his eyes. "You're right! His partner …"

"Could very well be out there right now!"

"But where?"

Gale thinks for a minute. "Where would there be a lot of cameras?"

"The airport?"

"Think Dewey! Howards was putting on that reality show!"

Understanding crosses Dewey's face. "You're right!" His face ashens. "Which means -."

The two look at each other, before Dewey grabs his pistol. "Deputy Hicks! I need you!"

Judy rushes after them, as they speed out of the office.

…

Kirby and Beth sneak through the darkened hallways of the mansion. The cameras filming them seem all too ironic at this point.

They come to an alcove on the bottom floor, and the two stop.

"Any sign of the killer?" asks Beth.

Kirby shakes her head. "None. But … we have to find Shannon and Evan."

"How?"

"Let me try and text Shannon."

Kirby takes out her phone, and begins texting. Beth is looking around nervously.

"Ugh! The text failed to send!" Kirby rubs her eyes.

"Now what?"

"I'm not leaving without them!"

"But what if we get gutted in the meantime?"

"I'm going after them …"

"You can't! He's still up there!"

"And Shannon and Evan are up there with him!" Kirby looks around. "If you want, you can wait alone for me to come back…"

Beth's eyes widen. "Noo! I'm not staying anywhere alone!"

"Then you'll just have to come with me."

Beth grinds her teeth. "Fine." She huddles close to Kirby. "But if I get killed …"

"If you get killed, there's a good chance I will too."

The pair move back upstairs, Beth tightly holding on to Kirby's sleeve.

Kirby uses the light off her I-phone as a flashlight. They reach the fourth floor, and Kirby stops short as she hears slight footsteps.

Behind her, Beth is trembling. "What is it?" she squeaks.

"Nothing. Just stay calm and keep moving."

The duo keeps walking.

A SHAPE DARTS INTO THEIR FIELD OF VISION!

Beth tenses, gripping Kirby for dear life.

The music starts becoming creepier, intensifying as the pair continues moving down the darkened corridor.

"There it is again," Beth whispers.

The shape darts across their field of vision again.

"In here!" Kirby grabs Beth and shoves her into a large, walk-in closet. She locks the door behind them.

Outside in the hall, they can hear footsteps growing nearer.

The doorknob slowly starts to turn – but the locked door doesn't budge.

Beth looks around frantically. "There!" She points at a cord hanging from the ceiling.

"An attic!"

Kirby tries to reach up and grab it, but both she and Beth are too short.

BAM!

Something is breaking its way through the door. Already the wooden frame is beginning to splinter.

Kirby's fingers barely touch the cord, still unable to grasp it. She is standing on her tippie-toes.

The door is nearly battered through. Beth turns around and can see parts of Ghostface's mask through the broken door.

"Hurry!"

BAM!

The door is nearly off its hinges.

Kirby's fingers grasp the cord, and with a yank, the door opens and a ladder descends. "Get up there!" Kirby yells.

With a cry of fright, Beth scampers up the ladder. Once she reaches the top, she motions for Kirby to follow her. "Come on!"

BAM!

THE KILLER FINALLY BURSTS THROUGH THE DOOR!

Kirby rushes up the ladder … nearly to the top!

GHOSTFACE GRABS HER ANKLE!

Kirby lets out a scream, struggling to kick herself free. The killer raises his knife.

Kirby pulls her foot out of her boot, leaving the killer holding the leather shoe. She staggers up the ladder with one bare foot.

Ghostface tosses the empty boot aside and begins ascending the ladder after them.

Beth pulls Kirby to the top, and the two rush through the dark attic, past boxes and other old trinkets.

Ghostface reaches the top of the ladder, and draws himself to his full height. His knife gleams in his hand as he begins walking towards his prey.

"There!" Beth points to a window.

Kirby flings it open – it leads to the rooftops. "After you!"

Beth shakes her head. "I'm not going out there!"

"Okay, stay behind and have your guts spilled."

"On second thought – fine! But you go first!"

Rolling her eyes, Kirby pulls herself out the window and onto the rooftop. She holds her arms out at her sides to balance herself. "Your turn!"

Beth begins trying to go out the window.

GHOSTFACE APPEARS RIGHT BEHIND HER!

"Behind you!"

Beth is halfway through the window. Ghostface grabs the raised window, and SLAMS IT SHUT ON BETH'S BACK!

Beth lets out a horrible cry, as Ghostface opens the window and slams it shut on her yet again! He then raises his knife, PLUNGING IT DEEP INTO BETH'S BACK!

Kirby is helpless, and she screams in horror. The killer opens the window and shoves Beth's body aside. He then staggers out onto the rooftop.

Kirby turns, and tries to balance herself across the rooftop.

The killer also seems somewhat unbalanced, and he struggles to steady himself as he pursues his quarry.

Kirby loses her footing due to having one boot on and the other foot bare, and she slips onto her side. She slides down the angled roof and plunges over the edge.

HER FINGERS GRIP THE EDGE!

Kirby is now dangling from the top of a six-story mansion.

Ghostface appears at the top of the roof, and he slowly, carefully, begins making his way down towards her.

Kirby looks down to her right, and sees an open window a floor below her. If she could just get to it…

She carefully begins shimmying along the edge of the roof.

Ghostface slowly stalks her, tilting his head.

Kirby winces from the pain shooting through her fingers.

CRACK! SNAP!

The gutters that Kirby is holding on to begin slowly breaking away from the edge of the roof.

Kirby screams, knowing that this gutter is only seconds away from breaking off completely. She moves faster.

Ghostface skids his way down the rooftop towards her.

Kirby has no choice – she JUMPS from the edge of the rooftop towards the open window. Her fingers grasp the bottom of the window, and with a groan, she pulls herself in.

She staggers to her feet – she's on the fifth floor. She winces as she walks – she sprained her ankle in the struggle.

_VMMM! VMMM!_

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she answers it. "Hello?"

_"Daring escape, Kirby. I like it. You certainly have made things more fun for me – but let's up the ante."_

"Where are my friends?"

_"This mansion has an indoor pool in the basement that's been refurbished for this show. Come to it."_

"My friends …"

_"Follow my instructions – and perhaps you'll see them."_

The killer hangs up, and Kirby gulps as she slowly limps towards the stairs.

…

A door parts open, and Kirby enters a large room. In the center is an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

On the other side of the pool, gagged and tied to chairs, are Evan and Shannon.

"No!" Kirby tries to go around the pool to get to them.

_VMM! VMM!_

_ "I wouldn't do that if I were you Kirby! You remember how to play this game, right? Of course you do, you've seen STAB a million times. Not to mention that you already played this game with Jill and Charlie, haven't you?"_

"Don't even mention those names."

_"Hit a sore spot, huh? That's okay, Kirby, completely understandable. The point is, you've played this game before, so that increases your chances, huh?"_

"Don't do this … please …"

_"Come on, Kirby. You're not really going to ask me to stop when I'm having such fun, are you?"_

"You're a sick bastard!"

_"Haven't you heard, Kirby? Sick is the new sane."_

"Then let's just get it over with!"

_"So impatient. But fine, have it your way. You know how this works. I'll ask you two questions. You get both right, I don't kill either of them. Get one wrong, one dies, get both wrong, they both die!"_

"Bring it! I'm ready this time!"

_"Ooh, getting feisty. I like that in a woman. I seriously would have considered dating you – if I weren't trying to kill you!"_

"You flatter yourself!"

_"Oh, so now you're too good for me? I might just have to rip someone open for that!"_

"Just get on with it!"

_"You're in that much of a hurry, huh? Tell me something, aren't you experiencing any de-ja-vu?"_

"What do you mean?"

_"You played this game before with Charlie, and it turned out he was one of the killers. Perhaps Evan or Shannon is my partner. What then, Kirby?"_

Kirby grinds her teeth. Images of herself getting stabbed by Charlie flash through her mind, and her hand instinctively moves to her stomach.

"If one of them is the killer … then I'll put them down the way Sidney put down all the others!"

_"Really? Then let's play and find out. Question one – for Evan! What German expressionist horror film was an unauthorized adaptation of Dracula?"_

"Nosferatu," Kirby says through clenched teeth.

_"Very good. One down, one to go. Can you keep it up, Kirby? Can you save Shannon's life? And even if you do – what if she decides to up and knife you?"_

"Enough talking! Just get to the damn question!"

_"Fine. What was Halloween originally supposed to be titled?"_

"The Babysitter Murders!"

_"Correct! But now we get to the fun part … because, you see Kirby, you have a choice. You can now only save one of them – so which will it be?"_

Kirby is stuttering. "B-but you said … I got both right! You said you would let them live!"

_"No! I said I wouldn't kill them! I never said they would live!"_

Ghostface appears behind both chairs and pushes both the helpless Evan and Shannon into the swimming pool.

Without a second thought, Kirby dives into the pool. She struggles to swim with her bruises. She looks around and sees both Shannon and Evan's chairs at the bottom of the pool. Both of them are struggling to break free – to no avail.

Kirby swims on. She reaches Evan first, and is unable to undo his bindings. She grabs the chair, and pulls it up to the surface. The water makes the chair weigh less, and she manages to keep Evan's head above the surface.

"I'm going to drag you to the shallow end!"

Evan nods.

Kirby drags the chair across the pool to the three foot area. Evan's chair is able to stand upright here, with Evan's head above the water.

"I'll be right back!" With a turn, she speeds underwater towards Shannon.

GHOSTFACE'S HAND PLUNGES UNDERWATER, GRABBING KIRBY'S BARE FOOT!

Kirby struggles to swim, but it's useless. She can see Shannon underwater, struggling to breathe.

Ghostface grips the sole of her foot, pulling her back, up out of the water. With his other hand, he grabs Kirby's neck, pulling her entirely out of the pool. With a mighty heave, the killer throws Kirby out of the pool and unto the wet, tiled floor.

Kirby lets out a cry as she lands on her wrist.

The killer towers over her. There's a flash of silver as he reveals his knife.

Kirby struggles to her feet as Ghostface rushes her.

She grabs a long-handled net used to fish objects out of the pool. Wielding it like a staff, she strikes the killer about the legs and waist.

Unable to fend off the barrage of attacks, the killer slips on the wet floor, slamming unto his back. He moves no more.

Tossing aside the net, Kirby dives under the water once again.

Shannon's head is hanging limply, bobbing along with the water. Kirby grabs her chair, and pulls Shannon up above the water.

Shannon's eyes snap open, and she begins coughing up water and taking in deep gulps of air. Kirby drags her towards the shallow end of the pool where Evan is waiting.

"Wait here a minute!"

Kirby runs over and grabs the killer's knife. She quickly cuts Evan free, and then moves towards Shannon.

She hesitates, having memories of Charlie's attack.

"It's okay," Evan says. "If she tries anything – I'm here."

Kirby nods, takes a deep breathe, and cuts Shannon free.

Shannon stands up, and the three of them exit the pool, and collapse. Kirby tosses the knife aside, and the three lay there, catching their breath.

Finally, they all stand.

Shannon makes a move for Kirby – and Kirby winces, expecting an attack. Instead, Shannon throws her arms around her. "You saved me! Kirby, I owe you my life!"

Kirby pats her on the back, melting into her embrace. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you! I'm sorry for ever suspecting you!"

"Hey, don't sweat it girl!"

Evan clears his throat. "Umm, ladies – we have a bigger problem!"

They look up. The killer – along with his knife – has vanished completely.

Kirby grabs Shannon's hand, and motions for Evan to follow. "We have to move – NOW!"

"But you already beat him once," Shannon says. "And with the three of us together, he won't try to attack us – will he?"

A grim look crosses Kirby's face. "Trust me – he's more dangerous now than ever!"

…

Mitchells and Heismith are sitting in the Woodsboro Police Department playing cards.

Mitchells sighs as he tosses his hand onto the table. "Go fish."

Heismith raises his eyebrow. "Go fish? I thought we were playing Spite and Malice."

Mitchells stands up. "I better go check on our prisoner."

Heismith shakes his head. "Better you than me. That guy gives me the heebie-jeebies."

Mitchells is smiling. "By the way – you owe me a beer for that hand."

"I didn't know we were betting!"

Mitchells makes his way through the department to the holding cells. In one cell is a wino, muttering incoherently.

He makes his way past to a second cell on the left – and stops.

The cell door is wide open.

Mr. Howards is nowhere to be seen – escaped.

Mitchells is in shock. "Shit." He grabs his walkie. "Heismith, I need you."

He turns around – ONLY TO GET A KNIFE RIGHT INTO THE STOMACH!

Mitchells doubles over, blood running out of his mouth. Ghostface cocks his head as the officer collapses onto the ground in a pool of blood.

"Watcha need Mitchells?" Heismith comes around the corner, and his eyes widen. "Oh fuck!" Ghostface charges Heismith, stabbing him right in the forehead.

Heismith staggers around, blood cascading down his face. He falls to his knees. "Seriously – fuck Bruce Willis!"

Then he falls to the ground – dead.

There is the sound of a rustling cloak as Ghostface steps over both cops' bleeding out corpses.

…


	20. Chapter 20: The Killers Revealed

Disclaimer: I do not own Scream; this is merely a fanfiction.

**Author's Note: Hey guys, be sure to put "Spoiler Alert" at the top of your reviews for this chapter – that way you don't ruin anything for those who haven't read it yet. Thanks guys! :)**

…

Kirby, Shannon and Evan rush upstairs, away from the pool room. Kirby is limping, and so Shannon and Evan have her arms strung around their shoulders.

"Okay, so if I remember correctly, there are a couple vintage cars in the garage. Someone's gonna have to hotwire one of them." Kirby looks around for any takers.

"Leave it to me," Evan says. "What? When I was six, Randy taught me how to hotwire a car."

"Let's just keep moving. The garage was down to the left."

Evan stops short. "Wait. I thought it was to the right?"

Kirby is shaking her head. "Now I'm confused."

Shannon is shrinking down. "Great! So we're lost in a mansion with a killer who could be anywhere!"

They hear footsteps behind them.

"Guys … don't you think we should get a move on?"

BAM!

A corpse DROPS from above, hanging by its intestines. It's Sandford.

They look behind them to see Ghostface stalking towards them.

"MOVE!" Kirby screams with every fiber of their being, and the trio staggers down the hall, the killer hot on their tail.

They try to turn a corner – A SECOND GHOSTFACE APPEARS AND STABS EVAN DIRECTLY IN THE SHOULDER!

The Ghostface behind them opens a large door, and the second Ghostface shoves them through.

Kirby, Evan and Shannon find themselves in the mansion's magnificent ballroom. The two Ghostfaces block the doorway, advancing on them.

"What are you waiting for?" shouts Kirby. "Just finish this!"

The two Ghostfaces look at each other and nod. Then they turn to face the trio.

The first Ghostface reaches up and removes his mask, revealing … Phil.

The second Ghostface removes his mask, revealing … Beth.

Kirby is shocked beyond words. "Phil? Beth? No, it can't be! I – we saw you die!"

Phil smirks. "I work in television, Kirby. Special effects are kinda my thing."

Beth is no longer wearing her glasses, and she reaches up to her frizzy hair, tugging on it. It's a wig! Beth shakes her real hair around, before fixing it in a ponytail.

Evan, despite his pain and shock, gapes. "Wow. She was actually hot all along!"

Beth smirks as she fixes her hair. "I'm surprised none of you suspected me. I mean, I'm a good actress, but come on! No one is as neurotic as I played!"

"Actually," Shannon begins, "my Aunt Ira is -."

"Shut up!" Beth points her bloody knife at Shannon. "I've listened to enough of your stupid prattling throughout this entire stupid show!"

"But why?" Kirby blurts out. She holds onto Evan, trying to nurse his wound. "Why ruin this show? Why kill everybody?"

Phil shrugs. "The show never really meant that much to me, Kirby."

"Then why?"

A dark look crosses Phil's face. "My father … is an evil man. He deserves to fry in the lowest pits of hell. Who knew he was the leader of the snuff ring? Hell, I didn't even know until a year ago! It outraged me! He allowed dozens of people to be butchered – children to be molested, groped – THEIR INNOCENCE TAKEN – just to make a couple bucks!"

Beth glares at all of them. "My sister … three years ago she was approached for a movie role. She accepted, not realizing what kind of movie it was. She was raped on camera, and then paid hush money by Mr. Howards. Even though she kept her mouth shut, she never really got over it. It drove her to depression until finally … she took a gun to her head and blew her brains to fucking Friday!"

Phil is smiling as he begins circling them. "You see, my father is too well connected to ever be brought to justice. Hell, they even tried to indict him twice – but he wriggled his way out like the worm he is. Then it hit me – after seeing what Jill and Charlie did last year – the perfect way to get my father behind bars."

"You see," Beth continues, "no one in this freaking state cares about things like snuff films anymore. All they care about is poor Sidney Prescott. The only real newsworthy items these days are anything related to Ghostface killings."

"That was the key," Phil says. "Create a new Ghostface killing spree – and frame my father. That way, he'll be arrested … he'll finally get the justice he deserves! So I found Beth online … asked her if she'd like justice for her sister. Of course, she immediately agreed."

Beth is playing with her knife. "All we had to do then is research some of the other victims of the snuff ring. Find out who they were. We butchered one of them up at some stupid carnival. Then Phil carved up your dear friend Evelyn, who was molested on camera. Make it look like Mr. Howards was deliberately targeting people who were harmed by his ring. Make it look like he was trying to shut them up – permanently!"

"But why kill innocent people?" Shannon protests.

"What's a few innocent lives for the greater good?" Phil asks. "How many more would be killed in snuff films – raped and groped, their dignity taken away? It's a shame so many had to die, it's true. But it had to happen. Because the leader of a snuff ring can walk free – but a killer in a Ghostface costume – well, the media will swarm all over that."

"Why not just kill him?" asks Kirby.

"Killing him isn't enough. He has to have his good name tarnished – dragged through the mud. Humiliated, as so many of his victims have been humiliated."

A door on the other side of the ballroom opens - A THIRD GHOSTFACE WALKS THROUGH. He is dragging a bound and gagged Mr. Howards.

"Ah, our other accomplice," Phil says. "Three killers this time – quite a twist, eh Kirby?"

"It was really simple. And quite astonishing how dimwitted Woodsboro police are," Beth says. "All we did was have our other accomplice go after Sidney. Precious Sidney gets a few calls, and all of the Woodsboro Police Department goes to her rescue. Leaving us free to go on a massacre here – uninterrupted by snooping cops."

"You see," Phil continues, "my father needs an accomplice. That's where you come in, Shannon."

Shannon blinks in astonishment. "M-me?"

"Don't you get it?" asks Beth. "You're the new Jill Roberts, Shannon. Mr. Howards attacked Sidney – and you killed everyone in here." She looks over at Kirby. "It's nothing personal, Kirby. It's just that, with Sidney in the hospital and you dead, this massacre is sure to get unparalleled media attention."

Kirby shakes her head. "You're disgusting. You talk about justice – you've made a mockery of justice!"

"Here we go," Beth says, rolling her eyes.

"You better shut the hell up, Kirby," Phil roars.

"No I will not shut the hell up! You two – you're not in this for justice. You're in this for revenge! Mr. Howards does deserve to be behind bars – but so do you two dipshits!"

Beth presses the tip of her knife under Kirby's jaw. "I would watch my mouth, if I were you!"

"Then do it!" Kirby shouts back.

Phil places his hand on Beth's shoulder. "Relax, babe." He massages her shoulder and she relaxes. Phil starts sweet-talking her. "You were so amazing tonight, babe. You really did that costume justice. Oh, and you are so _incredibly _hot wielding a knife!" The two begin kissing furiously.

Kirby takes this moment of distraction to try to get Evan and Shannon to run for it.

Phil breaks away from Beth, pointing his knife at them. "Stay put!" The Ghostface standing in the back moves closer, dragging the struggling Mr. Howards with him.

"Okay," Beth says. "Next part. We finish these three off, make it all traceable to your father and Shannon. Then the three of us get off scott-free!"

_"Wrong!" _Ghostface shouts.

With lightning-quick speed, Ghostface rushes towards Phil and Beth. He STABS PHIL DIRECTLY IN THE HEART! Phil gags on his own blood, looking at Ghostface questioningly, before collapsing to the ground.

"Oh shit!" Beth fumbles with her own knife, but not quick enough. Ghostface is on her, and he STABS HER SQUARE IN THE CHEST!

Blood pours out of Beth's mouth. "But … but … you promised …" Beth falls over sideways, her corpse landing right on top of Phil's.

Ghostface cleans the blood and gore off his knife, before turning to face Kirby, Shannon and Evan. He reaches up with his gloved hand, removing his mask to reveal … Detective Turner.

"Surprised?" Turner asks.

Kirby is not even shocked.

Turner is now pacing, like a panther about to strike. "Well, now that those two are out of the picture, I guess that means I get full credit for blowing this case wide open. Picture it – I save the day, catch the killers. But of course, not before they split you all wide open. I catch all three of them – Phil, Beth … and of course I have to frame Mr. Howards for the killings I actually committed. Then there's Sidney, who thinks she saw me die … but no matter, I'll pay her a visit in the hospital. Of course, I won't stupidly attack her directly like Jill did. It'll be plausible for the public to think that there was a … mix-up … in her medication. Then I come out on top, and I'm no longer in a dead-end career!"

"Is that why you're doing this?" Kirby asks. "For fame?"

"Of course not, Kirby. I just wanted to see a scumbag like Mr. Howards behind bars. Of course, there _is_ the added bonus of a promotion for all this … won't Kincaid be proud of his partner? Now, are we done talking? Good." Turner brandishes his blade.

"YEAARGGH!"

BETH SPRINGS TO LIFE, CHARGING TURNER WITH HER KNIFE!

Turner swings around, dodging Beth's furious swipes.

Evan, Shannon and Kirby head for the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Turner shouts. He disengages from Beth, and charges Evan.

Beth turns her sights on Kirby, and the two struggle. Beth kicks Kirby to the floor, and straddles her. She raises the knife above her head, and plunges it down towards Kirby's chest. Kirby grabs Beth's wrist, stopping it. Beth presses with all her might, the knife inching closer to Kirby's chest.

Turner pushes Evan into a wall, slicing up his arm. Evan screams, as Turner throws him into a table.

Beth's blade is beginning to sink into Kirby's flesh. Kirby screams, unable to knock the mad girl off of her.

CRACK!

Shannon SMASHES a chair into Beth's head, knocking her off of Kirby. Kirby rises to her feet as Beth charges again.

Shannon grabs Phil's knife and tosses it to Kirby, as Beth comes at her full force.

SPLAT!

Beth looks down at her stomach as she finds the knife that Shannon tossed to Kirby lodged in her stomach. Kirby twists the knife, and Beth backs away, before collapsing once more in a bloody heap.

BANG!

A gunshot blasts throughout the entire ballroom. Everyone looks up to see Turner holding a gun to Evan's head. Evan looks horrified.

"Alright Kirby – drop the knife or I'll spread this boy's brains across the wall."

Kirby hesitates.

Turner cocks the gun once again. "Do it!"

Kirby slowly lowers the gun on to the floor, before rising with her hands in the air. Shannon stands to the side, hands raised.

"That's better."

"Hold it right there, Turner!"

Dewey BURSTS through the door into the ballroom, gun raised. Judy is there too along with Gale.

Turner rolls his eyes. "Well hasn't this become a regular Woodsboro Massacre Reunion?"

"Drop the gun, Turner!" Dewey raises his own weapon.

"And if I don't?"

"Don't push me, Turner. I've had a very rough day!"

Turner presses the gun into Evan's temple. "Try me."

"Let the boy go …"

"No, I don't think so. You see, he's my bargaining chip right now." Turner slowly begins edging his way towards the door. Dewey and everyone else are at a loss for what to do.

Turner kicks the door open. "Oh, and one more thing." He points the gun at Dewey and fires.

"NOOO!"

Acting on instinct, Gale rushes forward, diving in front of her husband. Her body pulses as the bullet enters her chest. She collapses on the ground.

"GALE!"

Dewey drops to his knees over his wife, as Shannon and Kirby rush over.

Turner shoves Evan to the floor, and prepares to rush into the hallway.

ANOTHER GHOSTFACE APPEARS IN THE DOOR BEHIND HIM AND STABS HIM REPEATEDLY.

Everyone looks on in shock. Blood is pouring out of Turner's mouth and wounds. "H-how …?" He then collapses to the ground, dead. Blood pools around his body.

Dewey and Judy point their guns at him.

_"Relax, Dewey. It's me." _Ghostface removes his mask, revealing a smiling Kincaid.

Dewey and Judy lower their guns in relief.

Kincaid tosses aside the Ghostface costume in disgust. "I found Mitchell's and Heismith's bodies at the Police Department after visiting Sidney. I figured I'd come here to see if everything's okay."

He looks down and sees Gale with a bullet wound. "Oh my God…"

Dewey is cradling Gale's head in his lap. "Gale, please. Please stay with me."

Judy is wiping her eyes, and Kirby hugs Shannon, unable to continue looking.

Gale lets out a cough. "Would everyone stop acting like I'm already in the grave?"

Relief crosses everyone's faces as Gale sits up. Dewey looks up to Heaven. "It's a miracle!"

"But how?" asks Kirby.

Gale raises her shirt, revealing a bullet-proof vest. "It's like Hicks is always saying – wear the vest, protect your chest."

Everyone collapses into fits of laughter.

"YAAARGHH!"

BETH POPS UP ONCE AGAIN, KNIFE RAISED!

Dewey, Judy and Kincaid raise their guns, pumping her full of bullets. She falls down again, dead. For real this time.

The camera pans upward, showcasing the grisly horror scene that had taken place just moments ago.

…

TWO MONTHS LATER … A MOVIE THEATER IN HOLLYWOOD.

A crowded movie theater is showcasing the premiere of STAB 8, a movie version of the killings that took place at the hands of Jill Roberts and Charlie Walker.

Kirby is sitting next to Shannon, munching on popcorn. "Isn't it going to be kind of weird, to see a character based on you on the big screen?" asks Shannon.

Kirby shrugs. "I see it as a compliment. I just can't wait to see who they got to play me."

Evan is next to them, fully recovering. He throws his arm around Kirby's shoulders, and she cuddles up into him. "Why aren't Shannon and I in this movie?" he asks.

Kirby rolls her eyes and begins talking as though explaining it to a small child. "Because this is based on the Woodsboro Reboot Murders that happened a year and a half ago. Don't worry. STAB 9 is already in production: The Reality TV Murders."

Shannon shudders. "Now _that_ is going to be creepy to watch."

"Hey, would you guys mind piping down over there?"

"Relax, Dewey. The previews haven't even started yet!"

Dewey leans back in his seat, folding his arms as Gale gives him a chiding look.

"Well, where are Sidney and Kincaid? They're gonna be late!"

"Actually, Mark's the one running late." They turn around to see Sidney seated behind them, with an empty seat next to her.

"Sidney!" Kirby rushes out of her seat and nearly bowls a dozen people over in her effort to throw her arms around the older woman. "It's great to see you've made a speedy recovery!"

Sidney smiles. "Well, Mark's been amazing these past two months. It's like he's completely changed from the man he was."

Suddenly, a spotlight appears on the stage in front of the screen. An older man is standing there. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please. It appears we have an … announcement."

Mark Kincaid stumbles onto the stage, taking the microphone away from the gentleman. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for being here. I'll make this quick. I wanted to do this in front of an audience." He rubs his head. "Well, I'm not too great with words, but I uh … look, is Sidney here?"

A light flashes directly on Sidney, and she tries to cover her eyes.

"Ah, there she is. Well, let's cut to the chase, shall we? Uh, no pun intended."

"He's sweating really profusely," Kirby points out.

Sidney has her mouth open. "Please tell me he's not going to do what I think he's about to do."

Kincaid gets down on one knee in front of the audience, a small ring box in his hand. "Sidney Prescott … will you marry me?"

Sidney sits there, completely astonished.

Will she answer?

What will it be?

Cut to black:

SCREAM 5

END CREDITS…

…

For those of you interested, I put together this little chart, showing exactly all of the victims, how they were killed, and who killed them.

**The Carnival:**

Turner did the calling.

Bill: Stabbed and gutted by Phil.

Todd: Stabbed in the stomach with a knife and in the back with a piece of broken glass by Beth.

Jamie: Gutted on the Merry-go-Round by Beth.

Chuck: Stabbed through the head by Phil.

Hannah: Beaten up and throat slit by Phil.

**Blockbuster Video:**

Turner did the calling.

Doug: Stabbed, gutted and hung up from his intestines by Phil.

Evelyn: Head crushed with a cash register by Phil.

**Outside at the Creek:**

Beth did the calling.

Tyler: Stabbed in the ankle and beaten to death with a tree branch by Beth.

**The Kitchen:**

Beth did the calling.

Monica: Face sliced to bits with a meat slicer by Beth.

**The Macher House:**

Turner did the calling.

Attack on Kincaid: Charged and knocked out with a wooden beam by Turner. He then tied him and Mrs. Grady up and called Sidney before attacking her.

**Rutherfeller House:**

Phil did the calling.

"Attack" on Phil: Phil pretended to be stabbed by Beth.

The chase on Kirby and Evan: Beth chased them; they hid in an old bedroom.

The chase on Shannon and Evan: Phil chased them into a bedroom; tried to attack Shannon in a closet.

Justin: Stabbed in the back by Phil.

**Howards' Studios:**

Turner did the calling.

Chase on Judy and Gale: Turner chased them both – stabbed Judy in the shoulder and chased Gale down the stairs.

The Janitor: Stabbed in the forehead by Turner.

Chase on Gale: Turner chased her down the hall – Judy hit him over the head. He pretended to be knocked out. While Judy and Gale were distracted with Dewey, he planted the unconscious Mr. Howards on the floor so that they would think he was the killer.

**Attic and Rooftop:**

Phil did the calling.

Chase on Kirby and Beth: Phil chased them up into the attic, pretended to kill Beth and chased Kirby onto the rooftop.

**Swimming Pool:**

Phil did the calling.

The attack: Phil threw Shannon and Evan into the pool and attacked Kirby.

**Police Department:**

Mitchells: Turner freed Mr. Howards from prison to continue framing him with the other murders. He then stabbed Mitchells in the stomach.

Heismith: Stabbed in the forehead by Turner.

**The Final Showdown:**

Sandford: Gutted and hung up from his intestines by Beth.

Attack on Kirby, Shannon and Evan: Phil was the Ghostface who attacked from behind, while Beth was the Ghostface who attacked from the front and stabbed Evan in the shoulder.

Phil and Beth: Both stabbed by Turner; Beth is stabbed by Kirby, and then shot by Dewey, Judy and Kincaid.

…

That all being said, I hope you all enjoyed this story and view it as a decent entry into the Scream series.

I would love to hear what you thought about the killers and their motives, but be sure to write "Spoiler Alert" in your reviews so as not to spoil it for others who may not have read it yet.

Also – SCREAM 6 – coming soon…


	21. Chapter 21: End Credits

Disclaimer; I do not own Scream.

Hey everyone - here's a list of the cast and who I could see playing them if this was an actual movie. I haven't cast all the characters, because I want to use a lot of unkowns, and there's some flexibility. However, here are some of the actors I could definitely see playing these roles. Feel free to pick who you would have play them.

Sidney Prescott: Neve Campbell.

Dewey Riley: David Arquette.

Gale Weathers-Riley: Courtney Cox.

Kirby Reed: Hayden Pannetierre.

Deputy Judy Hicks: Marley Shelton.

Mr. Howards: J. K. Simmons (based off his role as J. Jonah Jameson in Spider-Man).

Phil: Jesse Eisenberg (he's got Phil's cockiness, his hyperness, and you get the feeling he could just snap).

Beth: Emma Stone (at first I wasn't going to cast her, but if you saw The Help, that's exactly how I pictured Beth).

Justin: To be honest, I can't cast him. He is supposed to look like a straight-up thug, yet he turns out to be a video game nerd. He's too hard to typecast. Any ideas? Maybe an unkown.

Mrs. Grady: Imelda Staunton.

Mark Kincaid: Patrick Dempsey.

Sandford: Alan Robson (not necessarily an actor, but watch him on "World's Scariest Places." That is exactly Sandford).

As for Shannon, Monica, Justin and Evan, I would have uknowns play them. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to put in your two cents.  
> <p>


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